His Christmas Wish
by Kavi Leighanna
Summary: All he wanted, after everything that's happened, was to give Jack a good Christmas. But he'd been broken and he wasn't sure he had it in him. HP SPOILERS FOR 100! WINNER CMFFA 2009 Best Het Romance.
1. December 1: Fallen Hero

_Okay. Admin stuff._

**WELCOME TO THE 2009 CHRISTMAS FIC (VOL 1)**

_And yes, the volume 1 thing is a necessity. See, Sienna is being a dear and between the two of us we're going to pick a prompt a day from now until December 25 (no word yet whether it'll be a fandom wide challenge or just for me and my annual extravaganza here), but this has been floating around in my head and since it's December 1st, today (and I'm handing in a paper today and tomorrow) I had to post SOMETHING._

_BUT! And this is a huge but, this is not going to be the usual fluffy happy Christmas fic. It's going to be a lot darker, a long more angst ridden, and I'm sure you'll see why by the time you finish this chapter. But have faith! Have I ever written an unhappy ending? _

**Oh, and SPOILER ALERT!! SPOILERS FOR 100.**

* * *

December 1

Emily Prentiss usually loved the first day of December. To her, it was the beginning of the holiday season, the first day she was allowed to decorate her apartment for Christmas. She was usually bouncing off the walls and often took at least half the day off to 'Christmasify' her apartment.

But not this year.

This year, she was dressed all in black, standing stoic and strong in a cemetary. Six days before, George Foyet had killed Haley Hotchner. So instead of decorating her house, she was at Haley's funeral, there in support of her friend and once-Unit Chief. She stood slightly behind Aaron Hotchner, close enough that in half a step, her side would be pressed against his. Little Jack stood in front of her, the rest of the team gathered around.

But none of that, Emily knew, would really help. Foyet had truly broken Hotch, and even in death seemed to be able to torture him. She didn't, couldn't, listen to what was being said. Her only focus was on the little boy and the broken man she had supported so much in the past few months. She felt the tears flood the corners of her eyes as they began lowering Haley's casket into the ground and found herself stepping forward to press her shoulder against Hotch's back, offering him as much of her support and strength as he'd take. Her other hand brushed against Jack's soft hair as she noticed Hotch's extremely tense posture.

She stepped closer to them as Jack leaned into his father's leg, clinging to his pants. She knew Hotch was having a hard enough time handling the fact that this was Haley. She was never coming back. And that, Emily knew, Hotch seriously believed was his fault. No one would be able to ever convince him otherwise. So she focused on Jack, pulling him back against her slightly because he would never be as strong as his father.

If she was honest, she was surprised when Jack turned to her then, leaning on her because she was there offering the support that Hotch couldn't. It wasn't that he didn't want to, and she was sure they all knew that, it was just a lot to handle for the moment. Hotch barely had enough strength for himself, let alone lending any to his still-confused son.

Once Haley's casket had been lowered into the ground, everyone started to disperse and JJ stepped forward to take Jack. He was reluctant, and unsurprisingly so. He'd been clinging to Hotch since he'd been reunited with his father. So Emily crouched down to Jack's level, smiling gently.

"Daddy just needs a minute, sweetie," she explained quietly. "He'll be with you in two minutes, okay?"

Jack still seemed reluctant, but took JJ's hand as she began to ask him whether or not he wanted a snack. She stayed with Hotch though steps back to allow him a few moments with his wife. She watched, with a knife plunging through her heart, as he knelt down beside her grave, his shoulders shaking. She looked away, though stayed close, allowing him his time.

Eventually, he stood and Emily stepped forward then, slipping her hand into his. It was an innocent gesture of support and she hoped that it helped him just a little bit. He glanced down at her momentarily, and there was enough information, emotion and even thankfulness in his gaze. Then he turned back, his shoulders heaving as he sucked in a deep breath.

"I'm taking a leave of absence."

The words didn't surprise her in the slightest. Instead, she squeezed his hand gently. "We'll be here," she reassured him. "Whenever you're ready, whatever your decision… we'll be here."

* * *

_**So, do me a favour, shoot me a review as to whether or not you'd like to see this play out over the next 25 days. Reminder though, I'm swamped until the 8th AND this is pretty deep and dark subject matter, so there's a good chance you'll be getting a handful of 2-a-day posts if I can't find the time or if I haven't written an adequate chapter to post daily.**_

_**Review!**_


	2. December 2: Grief Counselor

_I honestly don't know how to thank you guys. I know it's like the second chapter, and that's why I'm so overwhelmed and floored that I got almost 30 reviews off of the first one! I'm honoured and touched and scared to my bones because now I have to live up to your faith in me! I hope this is another good start..._

* * *

December 2

He was, honestly, unsurprised when the phone rang. He was sitting on his couch, staring at the wall, trying to focus on something other than the fact that his ex-wife was now dead, killed at the hands of the man that had probably broken him. And Emily had called almost daily after he'd been released from the hospital. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but he'd actually appreciated her checking up on him. She'd been able to find that illusive balance between hovering and letting him have enough space to think and just be miserable.

"How are you holding up?"

There was no hello, but then again, there rarely was when she was checking up on him. Hotch looked down at the floor in front of the couch, down at his son playing quietly. He'd been a little concerned with the violence he sometimes exhibited with his soldiers, but he'd told himself that it was normal. "We're... here."

"It's a start," she agreed, her voice warm and soft. "How's Jack?"

Jack was confused. He couldn't understand why Mommy wasn't around. He knew there had been a bad man and knew that that bad man had hurt his Mommy, but Hotch hadn't had the heart or the words to explain to his son that his mother was dead and she was never coming back. So Hotch stood, moving into the kitchen, unwilling to talk about it with Jack right there. He'd grown to trust Emily immensely after his attack, though it was easier to do on the phone than in person.

"Confused," he admitted to her, looking at the cupboards, one hand grasping the ledge of the counter. He found himself choking on words, unsure of what to say and wanting to say too much.

"Are you boys going to be okay?"

He knew what she meant. There had been many-a-time once he'd returned to work and she'd chewed him out for throwing himself in front of an unpredictable gun that she'd simply come over and sat there. She wanted to know if he wanted her to just come and sit with them. She wanted to know if he needed her support.

And he wasn't sure. He didn't want to burden her – though he was absently aware that she would scold him for even considering that it was a burden – and he didn't necessarily want Jack getting used to her. At the same time, he'd come to rely on her strength, on having her there when he was falling apart. This, however, was different. This wasn't about the fact that he needed to know there were others out there that understood his predicament and wanted him to succeed. This was about his son, his ex-wife, and how he blamed himself for what happened to Haley. He wasn't sure he really wanted a lecture right now, no matter how gentle she made it.

"Hotch, it's not going to burden me to say 'no' and it's not going to hurt me if you say 'yes'," her quiet voice broke through his thoughts.

He found the corner of his mouth tilting up slightly, despite the despair and depression pushing on his chest. Leave it to Emily to be able to read his thoughts, even over the phone.

"I don't know what we are," he finally decided on. "Jack… he asks about her."

"He's young, Aaron. He doesn't understand," she soothed, even though they both knew he was well-aware of it. "He just wants his mom."

Hotch swallowed, trying to hold the tears at bay again. "He can't have her." _And it's my fault_.

"I'm going to come over, okay? I won't lecture you, I promise."

She'd stick to that promise and he knew it. And even he had to admit, a few minutes reprieve from having to be strong for his son was probably worth it. He looked down at the counter. "Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, and she was blatantly ignoring the fact that there was no way she could make it from her brownstone to his apartment in twenty minutes, she was letting herself into the apartment. She'd long had the security code and a key from everything she'd done for him before. Jack looked up.

"Hullo Em'ly."

"Hey there, sweetheart," Emily responded softly, crouching down to ruffle his hair slightly. "How are you?"

"I'm good," the five-year-old replied. "Daddy's not."

Emily managed to withstand the tears that flooded her eyes. This little boy was so incredibly perceptive. "I know," she answered. "But it's okay. Even Daddy's aren't okay all the time."

"Are you going to help him?" Jack asked.

She smiled slightly, running her hand gently through his hair. "I'm going to try," she promised. "Is he in the kitchen?"

"Mmhmm." Then he was back to playing as Emily pushed herself up. Her go-bag she left by the door, pulling her coat off to drop it on top. Then she made her way into the kitchen where Hotch was standing at the counter, holding onto the edge until his knuckles were white.

"Hey there."

He didn't turn, but his shoulders sagged and she knew that was as much of a greeting as she was going to get. It was fine with her.

She stepped forward, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you need to do, Hotch, you do it. I'll watch Jack."

She was surprised when what he did was reach out for her hand, grasping it tightly in his own. She worried about her bones chafing together, but allowed him that grip, that tether that he seemed to want.

"She's gone." _My son's mother is dead and it's all my fault. _

Her heart went out to him. "I know." _It's not your fault, it's Foyet's fault, it's his problem._

Non-verbal communication was something they'd perfected and, as his shoulders sagged further, Emily stepped closer, her side aligning with his. He leaned toward her, just that little bit, enough that she could easily drop her forehead to his shoulder, offering him all the strength he was willing to take.

"I don't know what to do, Emily."

"You'll figure it out," she promised, her voice muffled in his shoulder. "It's okay."

But as his shoulders started to shake, his head bending down further as he started to cry, even Emily wasn't totally sure she believed herself.

* * *

_**Yay! Chapter 2! It was finished yesterday, which made me happy. **_

_**Okay, now that we all know what this fic's about and everything, I feel like I can kind of give my opinion on "100", especially after pretty much every review's made a comment on it. **_

_**I honest to goodness could not believe they'd killed Haley. I couldn't. I was shocked and terribly confused because they've just thrown the BIGGEST wrench into Hotch's life. And let's not lie, if TG leaves, we're going to be screwed. And I'd be terribly upset. But it wasn't even the fact that they killed her that really got me, it was the INTENSE emotion of that episode. Between her telling Hotch that he had to make sure Jack learned how to love, and the honest tears falling down Hotch's face as he was on the phone with her, then how the entire team heard the gunshot... I'm still reeling and I think that's why I could get this chapter out. And Haley's words about teaching Jack to love are going to come back in. They're actually going to play a huge role in this story.  
**_

_**Review, let me know if you're as intrigued by this chapter as you were by the last one!**_


	3. December 3: Making Spirits Bright

December 3

Emily had a plan. She liked to think it was a good plan, a solid plan, but it relied heavily on the trust she believed she'd built with none other than Aaron Hotchner. She chewed her lip as she approached the apartment complex. She'd rehearsed her words time and time again, knew her arguments inside out and backwards and yet, she wasn't sure she was actually going to be able to pull it off.

She knew for a fact neither Hotch, nor Jack had been out of the apartment since the funeral and she knew neither Hotchner male was about to really let the other out of his sight. Both were too afraid of the other disappearing for them to really focus on anything other than the fact that they were finally reunited. But Emily also knew that it was important for them to be separated sometime. Jack was going to have to grow up to be a functioning member of society and if they were going to start isolating themselves, it was going to damage not only Jack, but Hotch too.

So, she had a plan. It was a deceptively simple one too. She'd been a party to too many complicated plans that had completely fallen apart to think that one that involved too many steps would get her, and them, where she wanted them. So she'd kept it simple. She was going to take them to dinner. Nothing fancy, preferably with a safe place for Jack to play, but she'd decided while working on paperwork, absently staring up into Hotch's dark office, that it was necessary to get the boys out of the apartment.

Still, Emily couldn't help chewing the inside of her cheek in nervousness as she knocked on the door.

Hotch arched an eyebrow at her when he opened the gleaming wood and though he looked calm and collected Emily knew so much better. It was in the lines around his mouth, in the darkness lingering just under the surface of his eyes. "You could have used your key."

"You never asked me over, it felt weird," she replied with a shrug and a tentative smile. She took him in, dressed down but still publically presentable. "Grab Jack."

"Why?"

She knew she'd put on her determined face by the wariness in his. "I'm taking you two to dinner."

He blew out a breath. "Emily-"

"No," she said, firm but soft. "Hotch, you've both been cooped up here for a week. I understand it, but Jack's still little. Give him a chance to get out of the apartment, to play a little."

Jack was her trump card, and sure, she'd showed her hand early, but she also knew there was no better or stronger appeal to make than to the little five-year-old boy.

"Nothing fancy," she promised. "Just McDonalds, just to get you boys out of the apartment for a bit. I promise we won't be long, but you both need it."

It was a useless addition to her argument because she knew she had him hook, line and sinker the minute she'd played the Jack card. He may not want to go out in public but he also knew there wasn't a five-year-old in existence who wouldn't want to go to McDonalds or get out of the house a time or two. So he stepped back, and Emily followed, smiling at Jack as his curiosity turned to a tempered happiness.

"Hiya Em'ly."

Emily's smile was there, if a bit sad. "Hey, sweetie." She tried to force herself into a happier smile. "I have a surprise."

Jack's eyes lit up just a little bit more and Emily was struck with how much his father's depressive mood affected the littlest Hotchner. "What is it?"

"I'm going to take you and your daddy out for dinner!" she replied.

Jack looked over Emily's shoulder at his father, then smiled at her. "Kay!" And he scampered off to his room. He came back seconds later with a coat and shoes and Emily grinned widely, helping him on with the coat and then crouching down to help Jack tie his shoe laces. He giggled when she did it quickly in one try and he had to try two or three times. Then they both grinned up at Hotch. Emily was so happy when his lips twitched upwards at the corners.

"Come on," she said to Jack, holding out her hand. Jack took hers then held his out for his father.

"Yeah, Daddy. Come on. We're going to McDonalds!"

* * *

Hotch met Emily's smile with a nod as he returned from the bathroom, a little curious and concerned when her eyes met his only briefly before turning back to the window into the plastic Playplace. Hotch stopped dead as he realized why she was so focused on the equipment and forced himself to quell the automatic panic that had been flooding him whenever his son was out of his sight.

"Where's Jack?"

He had his answer the moment Emily winced, though he also realized his voice had been rather harsh.

"Playing," she answered, waving with a soft smile on her face. "Like little boys do."

Hotch found Jack waving back enthusiastically before he turned and scampered back into the tunnels. "It's time to go."

"Hotch _sit_."

It was the strength of the order that surprised him enough he actually sat. Hard.

"Let your son play," she told him. "He's a kid. Let him play."

"Emily-"

"No," she replied sternly and stubbornly. Then, she sighed. "Look, if you want to turn in on yourself, bury yourself in grief, that's your prerogative, you're an adult. But he's just a kid. He deserves every chance to keep being a kid, to decide for himself, to a certain extent, what kind of adult he's going to be."

Hotch looked out over the Playplace, finding his son at the bottom of one of the slides. There was a smile on jack's face, a laugh in his eyes that Hotch, admittedly, hadn't seen for too long to remember. He started when he felt Emily rest a hand on his arm.

"I can understand wanting to protect your son. You've both been through a lot. You lost him for _months_ and I can't even fathom what that was like. But he's going to grow up eventually, and the last thing you want is for him to be mistrustful of absolutely everyone he comes in contact with. It's okay for him to be wary, but if you hover over him, keep him close, he's never going to trust anyone."

He watched Jack climb into the play structure again, without a care except being a kid. But his gut still told him there was a danger out there. There was always danger. "There's always danger."

Emily's head tilted to the side. "Of course, there's always danger," she said. "There's always going to be danger. But he's eventually going to have to go out on his own. You can, and you should, teach him to be careful, teach him about danger, about strangers, but at some point, you're going to have to let him go."

Hotch watched, his eyes focusing quickly and securely on his son every time. Eventually, an exhausted little boy came out of the Playplace. The five-year-old yawned widely.

"Daddy, can we go home now?"

"Of course," Hotch answered.

Emily held up Jack's coat before sliding hers on. She smiled at Hotch as he picked up his son and Jack immediately cuddled into his father. She reached out for him. "See? It wasn't so bad, was it?"

Hotch stroked his son's back. No, it hadn't been that bad at all. But he wasn't about to tell her that. But more than that, he knew it was only a step. He was incredibly grateful for what she was doing for his son, but he wasn't naive enough to think that either of them were really even a step closer to putting things behind them.

* * *

_So about how I almost forgot to post this! I'm trying to get them up by about 10EST, but I just assumed I'd done it. _

_And you guys are AMAZING. I'm sorry I didn't reply to reviews last chapter, I spent yesterday editing papers for myself and my best friend and I was done looking at my computer and done typing. I shall do my best to be better about them today! Especially since you guys have been so awesome at reviewing._

_I hope this lives up to the last couple of chapters. I'm not sure I liked the end, but I hope the point of this got across. As you can see, I'm starting with Jack and we'll move on to Hotch as December keeps going. He's about to have a couple of really interesting revelations about his life and his son. Next chapter is pretty much a reflection chapter on Hotch's behalf._

_Keep reviewing? I promise to reply this time!_


	4. December 4: Because She's There

December 4

"Daddy watch!"

Hotch briefly turned his attention to his son with a tilt of his lips as Jack dive-bombed his toy plane towards the floor, pulling it up at the last second. Jack had woken up in the happiest mood since he'd been returned to his father's arms. And Hotch knew he had one person to thank for that.

Emily's words the previous night had been resonating in his head as he continued his battle with insomnia. There was nothing he wanted more than to see his son grow up to be a healthy, well-adjusted young man. To do that, Hotch knew, Jack was going to nee more than just his father. It had become increasingly apparent the previous night as they watched Jack play.

Jack needed a maternal influence in his life and if Hotch was honest with himself, there was only one person he trusted above all else to be that person. Jack already had Emily in the palm of his hands. And it was obvious Emily adored his little boy.

It was a lot to ask of his colleague. Sure, she was also his friend, but to ask her to almost step into a maternal role with Jack, to be a good influence in his life, was a completely different thing. She'd watched over him after Foyet, but he was different. He could at least do some things for himself, like cook, clean, things like that. Jack was five. There was a big difference between the two Hotchner men.

Hotch knew he was nowhere close to dealing with Haley's death. It didn't take a genius to see that he blamed himself utterly for everything Haley had suffered and not just to do with Foyet. He knew that Haley's misery prior to their divorce had been his fault. She'd been lonely at home, even with Jack and he'd been too busy with his head buried in his case files to see that.

But there had been nothing more painful than hearing Foyet explain his exact fears for Haley, how much he blamed himself for the things Foyet had put him through. It had broken his heart to tell Haley that his job was forcing her to uproot herself because they were being stalked by a man who had literally no morals, no qualms and absolutely no fear. To this day, Hotch firmly believed that if he hadn't been there, Foyet would have torn his home apart looking for his little boy.

But, Hotch knew, Foyet hadn't gotten that far. Jack leaned against his leg and his hand dropped to his head. "Okay, Buddy. I think it's bath time."

Jack scampered away with a happy yelp and Hotch felt his heart warm a little bit. Jack was good for him. And even he had to admit, Emily was good for Jack. His decision made, he called out for his son as he started towards the bathroom.

"Hey Jack, what do you think about seeing Emily tomorrow?"

Tomorrow, he'd see Emily and maybe he'd tell her that she was good for his son. And perhaps he'd even tell her that she was good for him too.

* * *

Emily sat in her apartment, the only light coming from the television. She had no idea what she was watching, she was just glad for the background noise. Almost twenty minutes ago, her thoughts had taken a turn for the worst, focusing on the pain and suffering Hotch and Jack still had ahead of them. The thought of Hotch suffering was bad, but, to a certain extent, she'd gotten used to it. Jack, however... she couldn't bear to see that little boy in pain. But she wasn't a relative. She was a work colleague and, granted, friend. She theoretically didn't have the authority to poke her nose into the situation.

Still, she knew that Jack needed to find a way to move on from this. As much as she liked Hotch – and that was a road she'd firmly ignored the second they discovered Foyet had Haley – from an emotional standpoint he wasn't the best thing for Jack right now. It wasn't that Hotch didn't love his son or didn't try, more that he had his own struggles ahead of him, he had his own pain he would be dealing with. He wasn't as stable as he seemed to be, and, honestly, Emily was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was only a matter of time before being so strong just wasn't possible anymore and she had no doubt he would utterly break down.

The same way he had when he was on the phone with Haley and heard the gunshot.

The same way he had when he was beating Foyet to death.

The same way he had when he'd pulled Haley's bloody body into his arms.

Emily drew in a deep shuddering breath. He'd been through so much and now he was going to have to figure out how to balance his son and his job. She swallowed. He was in for a roller coaster.

_So what are you going to do about it, Emily Christine?_

She was going to... she had no idea.

_Okay,_ she thought to herself_ what about Jack?_

Jack was someone she could help. He was still small and she'd already stepped in to try and get Hotch to loosen up when it came to Jack.

Then it came to her.

It was Christmastime.

She loved Christmas, and always had. So maybe, just maybe, she could focus on giving Jack a good Christmas. It was going to be the first one without his mother and, if Emily knew Hotch like she thought she did, there was no way he was going to be in any shape to follow holiday traditions, especially those that had been passed on from his ex-wife. But that didn't mean that Jack couldn't do some of them with her. And maybe she'd pass on a few of her own.

Decision made, she reached for the phone and jumped when it rang in her hand.

"Hello?"

"Em'ly! Guess what?"

She couldn't stop her smile at Jack's exuberant voice. "What, honey?"

"Daddy said we were goin' to a park tomorrow!"

"He did not!" Emily played along, overemphasizing her surprise and excitement.

"Yup! And he says we can invite you."

Emily blinked. "Did he really?" There's no way she and Hotch could be having the same thought processes. That would just be creepy.

"He did! Are you gonna come to the park with us tomorrow?"

Emily chewed her lip. Tomorrow was Friday. She was supposed to be in the office tomorrow. But... for this little boy, for his daddy, she could afford half a day, if not the whole day. And she could decorate her apartment...

"Sure I'll come to the park," she finally agreed.

"Yay! Okay, bye Em'ly!"

She shook her head in amusement as the phone banged down and she could still hear Jack, yelling at his father that she'd said yes. She stayed on the line, deciding she'd count to thirty before hanging up. She was at twenty-six when he came on the line.

"Emily?"

"Mmhmm?"

"I'm sorry about that."

"He's a kid, Hotch. He's got a bit of a short attention span."

There was a moment of silence. "Thank you."

"For what?" Emily asked in honest confusion.

"For coming with us tomorrow. I... I'm not sure..."

"You're a good father, Hotch," Emily interjected, aware of where he was going. "You're going through a lot right now. You're not perfect. But you're doing everything you can for Jack and that's all he can ask of you. That's all any of us could ask of you."

There was a beat. "You're good for him."

She put on a smile, if only to cheer up her voice. "I like to believe I'm good for both of you. You'd have buried your head in the sand months ago if I wasn't so completely stubborn."

"I owe you," he agreed.

She shrugged even though he couldn't see it. "I'll just put it on your tab. Who knows, maybe I'll... need the plumbing fixed someday."

"I'm not all that good with a wrench, Em."

Her entire demeanour shifted, softening at the touch of amusement she could hear in his voice. It was better than flat monotone like he'd used just after Haley's death, and it was a step up from the melancholy she'd been able to hear since. "And here I was hoping I'd never have to pay a plumber again." Then she paused. "I'll let you go. I'm sure it's storytime."

"Yeah. I'll get you directions tomorrow. Or something."

She chuckled. "Or something. Goodnight, Hotch."

"Goodnight, Emily."

* * *

_So, originally, as I wrote to some of you, this chapter was just the first half. Then I took a look at my plan (I'm only at December 18th, so if you guys have ideas as to how to bring Emily and Hotch together as Christmas looms closer, I'd LOVE to hear them) and discovered that I can play around with the way I'd originally planned it. Emily deciding to pitch in to give Jack a good Christmas wasn't supposed to happen until Sunday. But the thought of leaving it at just the first part (600 words, yuck!) made me re-think the plan and figure out if I can do this. _

_As you can see, I decided, I could! So you get almost 1500 words instead of 600. Take that muse!_

_And I'm getting it up borderline the time I wanted! I'm dancing in happiness right now. _

_Tomorrow's should be up around the same time. And yes, they are going to the park._

_Review please!!!_


	5. December 5: Shell of a Man

December 5

Emily felt panicked. Things had started to collapse not long after she'd woken that morning and she was in an absolute tizzy about the whole thing. She'd lost track of time and then started to freak out about what to take for her little park excursion. When she'd decided she'd had to find everything and now, was running late. With a groan as she looked at the clock, Emily all but threw her things into a bag, simultaneously managing to press the speed dial. The phone clicked on.

"I'm running so late," she apologized.

His long gust of air echoed over the phone. "We are too," he admitted.

The depression she could hear in his voice was enough to clue her into why they were running so late. "Okay. I'm just leaving. I'll drop by your place?"

"Sure," he agreed.

Emily shook her head as she hung up the phone. She'd had high hopes that his depression would hold off, at least for a few more days. She grabbed the Thermos that held her most prized contribution to today's excursion. Maybe some time outside, some time to relax, would stop his funk before it set in. She planned to do her best to make sure of it.

* * *

Emily had long since had both a key and the alarm code to Hotch's apartment. It had just been easier that way so he didn't always have to let her in. She didn't always use it, but she figured that this was one of those 'emergency' situations. She looked around. "Hello?"

Little footsteps came racing through the apartment. "Daddy's in'a shower."

"Okay," Emily responded with a soft smile. Jack's subdued mood was enough to give her a clue of how Hotch had been that morning. "Why don't we get ready to go?"

Jack nodded. "I'm ready."

"Do you have your toys?" she inquired, removing her coat, mittens and scarf.

"I have my ball."

Emily arched an eyebrow. "Just a ball?"

Jack nodded, moving closer and raising his arms in the way children did when they wanted to be picked up. She lifted the five-year-old into her arms, cuddling him against her. "Daddy's tired."

_Oh honey,_ Emily thought to herself. "Why is Daddy tired?"

"I think he had a bad dream," Jack answered. "I hearded him crying."

Putting aside the fact that Jack had even been awake to hear such a thing, Emily focused on Hotch. "Your daddy is dealing with a lot, honey."

"Because of Mommy?"

God, the kid was perceptive. "Yeah, because of your mommy. He misses her."

"I miss Mommy too," the little boy said sadly.

Which, Emily realized, was probably why he'd wanted to be picked up. Jack was a tactile child, but he was also active and a 'big boy'. She'd discovered over the last two weeks that he really only wanted to be picked up when he was tired. But this... Hotch's mood was leaking out on his son. She knew it wasn't Hotch's intent, just that Jack had such a big heart that he couldn't help but absorb his father's mood.

"I'm sorry," she said pressing a kiss to his head. Then she paused a moment, more out of dramatic effect than anything else. "I have an idea."

"Idea?"

"Mmhmm," Emily agreed. "Do you have toys to build a sand castle?"

Jack's little brow wrinkled. Eventually he nodded.

"Okay, why don't you go get those and put them by the door?"

"But Em'ly there's no sand!" Jack protested. "Just snow!"

It was true, but she looked at him, askance, as she set him down and crouched to his level. "You mean you've never built a snow castle?"

Jack blinked once before his face lit up and he scampered away, presumably to find his toys. Emily pushed herself up, trying to give herself a peptalk for what she was about to face. This was different than the last time. Her usually tactics were probably inappropriate considering this time he was grieving for real. This grief was different than the one after Foyet's initial attack on Hotch. There was no way Haley was coming back this time.

She made her way to his bedroom door, knocking softly. When she didn't get an answer, she poked her head in. Hotch was sitting on his bed, in a towel, his head in his hands. "Hotch?"

He looked up, startled. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I used my key," she replied, stepping into the room fully and leaving the door only slightly ajar. "I figured it was easier that way."

Hotch nodded.

Emily chewed her lower lip as she carefully sat on the bed beside him. "Hotch, while I may think it's good for you to try and get out you don't-"

He was already shaking his head. "Give me fifteen minutes."

She nodded. Then paused for a moment before saying, "It's okay if you don't want to come. No one expects you to be normal." She turned and left before he had the chance to reply.

This was bothering her, and not just on an abstract level either. She hated seeing Hotch upset and while she recognized that grieving was necessary, especially in this case, she very much wished that she could find some way to alleviate some of his pain. And she knew half the reason he wanted to be strong was for his son. Emily had first-hand experience dealing with grief and she knew that it just didn't work that way.

That did nothing to lessen her own sadness at his pain.

Jack looked up from his dump truck as Emily stepped back into the room. "Is Daddy okay?"

Emily managed a gentle smile. "He'll be fine. Did you find those sand toys?"

* * *

Finally, exhausted after hours of playing in the snow, Emily made her way to the bench beside Hotch. He'd stopped after their first snowman, choosing instead to simply guard their things. At that point, Emily may have even described Hotch as happy, or at the very least more light-hearted than he'd been back at the apartment. But now, just looking at him, she could tell that was no longer the case. He was starting to sink back into that sadness. She moved a little bit closer, when she could feel his warmth against her and knew he could feel hers.

"Hey Jack!" she called out. Jack looked up from where he was driving his toy cars through their snow castle. "Come here, sweetie. I have a surprise for you and Daddy."

Jack scampered over. "What is it?"

She asked Hotch to pass her the Thermos as she lifted Jack into her lap, moving just slightly closer so she actually had contact. "When I was little, and I played outside on cold days, my daddy used to call me inside and make me special hot chocolate," she explained.

"Special hot chocolate?" Jack asked.

"Mmhmm," Emily replied as she held out the top of the Thermos for Hotch to pour. Then she handed it to Jack. "Be careful, honey, it could still be hot."

Jack took the cup carefully between both his hands and took a careful sip. His eyes lit up. "Chocolate!"

Emily chuckled, then looked up at Hotch. Something in his eyes was still so sad. She sighed, even as her head automatically fell to Hotch's shoulder. Even if she could hold of the melancholy for just a little while it was going to have to be enough.

* * *

_I can't wait until tomorrow's chapter! And the next day! Points to JWynn for being psychic. You know what I mean!!!_

_And thanks to everyone who left me a review. Some of you I replied to (and I'm going to reply to your replies as soon as I'm done). I do really love it when I get a review that tells me what you guys liked best and what you didn't like. _

_Keep the ideas coming too! I got one yesterday that blew my mind to bits and pieces and I'm so excited to write it!_


	6. December 6: Maternal Instinct

December 6

Emily groaned as her phone rang shrilly, waking her from a comfortable, warm and deep sleep. She fumbled around for it. "'Lo?"

"Em'ly?"

The little voice startled her utterly and completely awake. "Jack? What are you doing awake, honey?"

"Daddy's not good."

Emily threw the covers off of her body, ignoring the cold that immediately followed. She reached for her jogging pants, somehow managing to switch out of her pyjamas and into those without dropping the phone. "I need you to be more specific."

"What's 'pacific' mean?"

"Not pacific, honey, specific. I need you to tell me exactly what's wrong," Emily explained, trying to dig up shoes.

"I don't know," Jack's little voice answered. "We had dinner and bath and he read me _Magic School Bus_ and turned out my light, but I had a bad dream and Daddy won't wake up."

She just barely caught herself before swearing. Hotch was going to kick himself for leaving his son in such a vulnerable state. "Was there a glass on Daddy's nightstand?"

"No," Jack answered. "A bottle."

Once again, she just barely resisted the urge to swear. She'd known with the way Hotch had fallen the day before that leaving probably wasn't her best of ideas. But she'd given Hotch the benefit of the doubt aware that staying would be hovering. "Okay, do you want to try and go back to sleep?"

Jack whimpered.

"Honey, I'm on my way, okay? I'm just leaving my house. I'm coming. But I have to leave my house phone behind, so I have to hand up. But I'm coming."

"Okay," Jack replied.

"Okay, Just hang on."

* * *

Emily had forced herself to breathe as she broke every traffic law in DC to get to Hotch's apartment.

"Jack?"

She was almost knocked backwards as the five-year-old came racing out of the hall. Emily pulled him off the ground and into her arms. "You're okay, sweetie. It's okay."

And Jack burst into tears.

Emily pulled him close, rubbing his back, crooning softly in his ear. As he started to calm down, Emily carried him to his room. She settled him on the bed, shed her coat and boots and crawled in beside him. Jack immediately curled his body around hers.

"Em'ly?" he asked as her hand stroked his back. "What's wrong with Daddy?"

Emily took a deep breath. "Daddy loved Mommy, Jack. He loved your mommy very much. And he's very sad that she's gone." Emily knew that at the very least, Jack had some sort of knowledge that his mother was no longer coming back. She wasn't sure he understood it, but she knew he was aware of it.

"I miss Mommy too," Jack said, burying his face further into Emily's neck.

"I know you do," she promised. "But your dad thinks it's all his fault. He's been trying to be strong for you and he's just letting all of that out."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"It's going to take time," she answered honestly. She didn't want to lie to Jack, especially not about this. Jack, like every other little boy, thought of his father as utterly invincible. But Emily had long ago learned that even Hotch broke sometimes.

"Em'ly?"

"Yes Jack?"

"How do we make Daddy better?"

Emily smiled at the adorable little boy, deliberately tamping down the extra burst of joy that he just assumed she'd be along for the ride. "We care for him, We support him when he's sad. We make sure he gets lots of hugs."

Jack nodded against her chest.

She was sure he'd drifted off again when his little hand tightened in her t-shirt.

"Em'ly, is Mommy happy where she is with the angels?"

Emily kissed his head, fighting back tears for the things Jack had gone through and the things he had yet to endure. "Your mommy is watching over you every day and she loves you. Don't ever forget that." It was the best she could do. After the abortion and the fallout, Emily had never been sure whether she really believed in a heaven and hell. Not to mention how difficult it was to explain to a five-year-old when she had no idea of his beliefs.

Jack yawned widely. "Will you stay with me?"

"Of course," Emily answered immediately. "You go back to sleep, honey. Nothing will hurt you."

* * *

_So, I'm so glad that I'd already written this by the time I went to type it. That way I could read it clinically and without the emotion because I realized that this is one of those chapters that just breaks your heart for little Jack. I'm going to have to give him a gingerbread house or something to cheer him up. Not tomorrow though. I fully admit tomorrow's chapter is so far away from happy. But, it's a necessary evil I figure._

_And to each one of you that drops me a line, I appreciate it so much. The skyrocket in the review count on this is like being on some sort of illicit drug, even though I have honest to goodness never done one before. It's actually better. _

_So please don't stop now! Review!_


	7. December 7: Boys Do Cry

_Prep your tissues, ladies and gentlemen. This one goes even darker than the last one._

* * *

December 7

Emily jolted awake as she heard a crash and her foggy brain took a moment to realize where it was coming from. The apartment was still dark, Jack, thankfully, still sound asleep. She pulled herself out of the bed, carefully tucking the five-year-old back in, this time remembering to close the little boy's door behind her. Whoever was in the kitchen, and she had a good idea of who it was, was damned lucky that the crash hadn't woken Jack too. Sure enough, Hotch was in the kitchen, picking up the broken pieces of glass.

"Aaron Hotchner, what do you think you're doing?" she hissed, cranky about being woken and at the audacity of this man. He now had a son to worry about for Pete's sake! "Get a broom and get some shoes. You're going to cut yourself."

He met her eyes and she knew, from that one glance, that he was still very much drunk. This was not, by far, the first time she'd been around when he was in the deep depths of intoxication brought on by depression, but this time, there was a five-year-old to consider and Emily felt her sympathy drain out of her body, replaced by the fallout of what could have happened if it was Jack that had been woken by the crash, alone in the house. She didn't think Hotch would ever hurt his son, but this was still something she firmly believed Jack should never see. And Hotch wouldn't appreciate it in the long run either.

"Hotch," she repeated, voice firm as she headed to the nearby closet. "Seriously. Shoes, okay?" She pulled a broom from the closet and the dustpan.

He blinked for a moment, then scowled. "No one invited you."

"Actually, your son did when he couldn't wake you up," she replied, keeping her voice carefully neutral and conversational. He was drunk, she had to remind herself, and though his words had stung, he would not have said them if he was sober. Not only had she had a standing invitation since he'd presented her with a key and the alarm code, but he wasn't in his right mind either. He was too deep within alcohol-aided grief to think logically about her presence.

"Why?" Hotch asked, confusion wrinkling his brow.

"Because he was scared," Emily replied on a sigh, snatching two pairs of shoes from the door. They were both his and while she recognized that the pair she was planning on slipping on would be much too big, they would do the trick of protecting her own feet from the sharp glass. "He had a nightmare and couldn't wake you up."

"So he called you."

"Exactly." She started sweeping as she stepped closer, then passed him the shoes. "Why are you out here?"

"I needed a drink," he replied, his tone telling her that answer should have been obvious.

"Then get some water please," she shot back tartly. She had no plans about being sympathetic to his grief while he was intoxicated and irrational. Maybe in the morning, when she knew Jack was safe, he was sober, if hungover, she'd be more compassionate to his grief and his guilt. But she had no patience for this.

"I don't want water."

And Emily snapped.

"Aaron Hotchner you're getting a glass of water and some Aspirin. I will not let you get even more drunk and slam around with your son asleep just down the hall. A couple of months ago, when it would have just been you and me in here, I would have been happy to sit down and shut up, but that little five-year-old is my number one priority right now. I'm not just going to sit around and let you do whatever you want when Jack is in the mix."

Hotch blinked.

"So you are going to put these on," she continued, thrusting the shoes at him, "get a glass of water and sit on the couch quietly while I finish cleaning up this glass."

She chalked it up to surprise and drunken shock when he did exactly what he was told, minus the Aspirin. With a sigh she got to sweeping up, double and triple checking that there were no little pieces of glass stuck between floor tiles and making a mental note to check and see if Jack had a pair of slippers he could wear. When she was finished, she went to the bathroom and brought out two pills. She held them out to Hotch, still seated on the couch. "Take these, sweetheart."

She stood over him while he swallowed them, then sat down, reaching out and putting her hand on his shoulder. "Are you going to be okay?"

He leaned his head back, dislodging her hand as he rested against the back of the couch, eyes closed.

"Right. Stupid question."

When his eyes opened, they wouldn't meet hers. Eventually, he swallowed and closed them again. "Emily…"

She held back her own tears. "Not here," she said quietly. "Come on." Emily pulled him up gently, leading him to his bedroom and settling him back into bed. Then she climbed in beside him and did the only thing she could think of that may help. She pulled him against her, arranging his head just above her breast. She felt the hot tears start to soak through her t-shirt as he allowed the dam to burst, sobbing uncontrollably into her chest. His arms wrapped around her tightly, almost too tightly, but Emily ignored the discomfort and wrapped her own arm around him, her other hand going to thread through his hair. She felt herself choking up right along with him, her own tears sliding silently down her face while he continued to shake them both with his sobs. This was the other shoe she'd been looking for, waiting for. She'd seen it coming, to a certain extent, but that didn't make this any easier to handle. That didn't make his pain any less, or her concern, worry and compassion lessen to any extent. She continued to stroke his head and neck as he continued to cry violently, curling tighter around her.

"She's gone," he managed between sobs.

"I know," Emily answered quietly, kissing the top of his head before burying her nose in his hair. "I'm so, so sorry, Aaron. So sorry."

He'd just cried himself to sleep when she heard the door creak open. Hotch had ensured not to oil the hinges in an attempt to create another little alarm to notify him when someone else was in his room.

"Jack?" she called out quietly into the darkness. Hotch's room didn't have a nightlight like Jack's did.

There was a sniffle before Jack's terrified voice floated over to her. "I had another bad dream."

"Come on sweetie," Emily offered. "I'll keep the bad dreams away."

Jack scampered up on the bed, and Emily shifted slightly, allowing him to slip under Hotch's arm and curl against her other side. Then she wrapped Hotch's arm around his son and, with one hand against Jack's back and the other in Hotch's hair, she allowed herself to drop off to sleep.

* * *

Hotch woke in the morning with a pounding headache he hadn't felt in a long time. He sighed, dragging himself into the bathroom. He looked like utter crap and he most certainly felt like it too. It wasn't until he was almost half way through his shower that everything from the night before came rushing back.

Alcohol.

Depression.

Grief.

Broken glass.

Emily.

Crap.

He owed her now. He owed her big time. He quickly finished up his shower and brushed his teeth. Then he made his way to the main room. Jack looked up at him from where he was watching cartoons.

"Hiya Daddy."

"Morning, Buddy." He almost winced when Jack started chewing his fingers. It was something his son only did when he was nervous or afraid.

"Daddy, are you better now?"

Oh God. Hotch almost passed out, but managed, instead, to paste on a smile. "I'm fine."

The five-year-old hurriedly pushed himself off the ground and rushed over, wrapping his arms around his father's leg. Hotch lifted him into his arms and wrapped him up in a big hug which Jack returned with a strength Hotch didn't realize his son had.

"Em'ly said you missed Mommy," Jack murmured, his head buried in his father's neck. "I miss Mommy too."

Hotch pulled his son closer, kissing the side of his head. He went over to the couch and sat down, pulling Jack into his lap. "I do miss your Mommy. I miss her a lot."

Jack patted his father's cheek with his little hand. "It's okay, Daddy. But Em'ly said it's your fault, but it's not. It was the bad man, Daddy. The bad man took Mommy away, not you."

Hotch had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the tears at bay. "You're right," he said. "The bad man did take Mommy away."

"But you made the bad man go away," Jack continued. "You made the bad man go away. I miss Mommy, but I still have you, Daddy and you made the bad man go away."

Hotch could only pull Jack into a hug again before settling him on the ground.

"Okay, I'm going to go play now, Daddy."

"I think that's a good idea." He watched his son scamper off, but called him back just before he turned the corner. "I love you, Buddy."

Jack smiled, the smile of a boy who was enjoying himself. "I know, Daddy."

Then he was gone, and Hotch had enough time to drop his head into his hands before he felt the couch sink. He looked up in shock, then relaxed when he realized it was Emily. His brow wrinkled. "Shouldn't you be in the office?"

She shrugged. "I couldn't leave Jack by himself. I told Dave I'd be in late, he'll pass it on to Derek."

There was a moment. Then he blew out a breath. "I owe you an apology, Emily."

She shook her head. "No, no you don't. If anyone understands the kind of overwhelming grief you're experiencing, it's me."

Hotch couldn't help but think it had everything to do with her reaction to the death of her childhood friend almost a year prior.

She rested her hand on his knee. "Hotch, you have to remember now that you have Jack. A couple of months ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about allowing you to go on your alcohol bender, but you have a five-year-old and you're the only thing he has left."

He just nodded. He knew he'd screwed up. She didn't need to tell him that again. Her words the previous night had been enough.

"I'm not saying you should keep that in, Aaron," she warned. "You need to let it out or you're just going to hurt yourself. Or you're going to hurt someone else."

"Emily," he said quietly. "I know."

"Okay," she said with a small smile. "I promised Jack I'd make breakfast. Did you want anything particular?"

"Emily, you don't have to-" He stopped dead when her fingers came up to cover his mouth.

"I've already started, so don't even go there."

He shook his head. "Whatever Jack wanted is fine."

She nodded once, then moved to stand.

He caught her hand. "Emily, thank you. Really."

"Hey," she said with a smile. "It's what you do for family."

* * *

_Okay, so I hope I explained why Emily snapped at Hotch instead of being sympathetic? I can honestly see her getting pissed off at Hotch first and foremost for not considering that he had Jack and then being sympathetic once she was sure Jack was totally safe. I've already got her building that kind of maternal influence with him, so I can totally see her going all 'Mother Bear' on Hotch until she could settle everything down._

_And I had the first half written and typed and was so excited because it was done, then remembered I had to do the morning. Bother. So I had to go in and finish it. Bother. And I got nothing done today in my academics that I could write home about. Bother. Just bother. _

_And I think this made up for the shortness of the last one?  
_

_But reviewing will make it all better!_


	8. December 8: Flirting With Disaster

December 8

"You rang?" Emily greeted as she poked her head into Dave's office.

"I did," he answered, leaning back in his chair. "Come on in."

Emily did, sitting quietly in front of him with an eyebrow raised.

"You're looking-"

"Dave," she interrupted, "let me give you some unsolicited advice. Never tell a woman she looks like crap." She knew she certainly did. At least she felt like it.

Dave held up his hands. "I was going to go with exhausted. I had three wives, Emily, and my divorces were not a result of me being stupid."

"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "So it was stubborn hot-headedness, was it?"

He frowned. "We're not here to talk about my divorces."

She crossed her legs. "Then why did you call me in here? I assumed it was that you missed being a human punching bag."

"You know why," he replied softly, folding his arms across his blotter and leaning forward in the process. "How is he?"

Emily didn't bother to go the clueless route. She knew exactly who Dave was referring to. "How would you be?" she answered, deciding to just be up front about it. Then she sighed. "Coping. They both are."

And she had the bruises to prove it too. It wasn't the first time Emily had stayed at Hotch's apartment. After Foyet's initial attack, she'd spent a number of nights at Hotch's place, to assure him he wasn't alone. He knew she was a light sleeper, a woman who woke up at the slightest noise. She was a comfort to him. Now, there was more to it. They'd both felt more comfortable that she was there and while she understood that Hotch would never deliberately leave her to take care of Jack, after Hotch's drunken bender – granted, it was only two nights ago – the idea that someone was there if Hotch couldn't take care of Jack made them both feel a lot better. Of course, between the two Hotchners, sleep had been precious and limited. They'd both been plagued with nightmares.

"Emily, it's me," Dave implored, wanting to know more.

The worry was loud in his voice and she sighed. "He was fine until... two nights ago." She couldn't keep her own blatant concern from her voice. "Jack called me."

"That's a smart boy," Dave said in admiration.

Emily smiled slightly, then sobered as she continued, "Hotch had passed out and Jack was scared. He couldn't wake up his dad."

"What happened?" Dave asked with a frown.

"To make him drink?" Emily inquired in reply, then shrugged. "He's been so strong for Jack, Dave. So strong. I think... it all just caught up to him."

"Of course," Dave agreed, nodding quickly. "I was more asking what you did."

"I chewed him out," Emily replied. "I get that he's upset, I understand he's grieving, but Hotch is all that little boy has left and I wasn't willing to just sit idle while he threw away the last good thing in his life by scaring the poor kid half to death."

"Don't sell yourself short, Em. You're important to him. And good for both of them," Dave corrected.

Actually, it was that relationship that made him quite nervous. If their bond had not blossomed out of so much one-sided grief, he'd be more comfortable with the idea and would probably be encouraging it. But he was concerned that this attachment was going to turn out to be unhealthy. So much of the strength of their bond had formed because Emily had settled herself into his crutch, supporting him, balancing him. It hadn't surprised him to hear that Emily was sticking close through this low point.

"That doesn't make it better," she said shaking her head sadly. "He's not good, Dave."

Though Dave had intended to point out to Emily the dangers of how close she and Hotch were becoming, he couldn't bring himself to do it when she looked so utterly heartbroken for both of the Hotchner males. Despite his fears, he did truly believe Emily was good for Hotch, And he knew Hotch was going to need as much support as possible while he adjusted to this new life.

"Dave, I know you're concerned," Emily said softly, startling him out of his thoughts. She was a profiler, intimately acquainted with grief. She could tell Dave was concerned. But she also knew from her childhood that there were good crutches too, people who were your support system for the long haul and though she'd failed Matthew, she wasn't about to stand by and let Hotch self-destruct. "I know what I'm risking."

"Do you?" Dave asked quietly. "Are you going to be able to walk away?"

"I'm not walking." The words came out clipped and harsh.

"I'm not telling you to walk away, I'm asking if you're going to be able to. Eventually, he'll have settled into these changes and he and Jack will be fine on their own. Are you going to be able to find yourself when that happens?"

Emily knew Dave's concerns were valid. There was a lot at stake here and she did risk losing herself in the process. But she also knew that the feelings she'd been suppressing in the weeks since Haley's death had been there long before Foyet made any of them a target. Not to mention she knew about healthy and unhealthy support systems and she knew where to draw the line. On her end, she really believed that there was nothing to worry about. And though Hotch probably didn't share her depth of feeling and probably wasn't as familiar with the problem of forming unhealthy attachments, she seriously doubted Hotch was able to form an attachment with the kind of strength Dave was worried about. He'd been through so much and Emily knew he was only scratching the surface.

"It's not going to be a problem," she told Dave firmly. "Everyone knows it's only temporary." She arched an eyebrow. "If that's all, I have two days of paperwork to do."

Dave nodded and watched as she left. He wasn't blind to the feelings that he could see growing between the two. After all, hadn't he been the one to point out to Hotch that he was starting to lose sight of the good things as he ruthlessly pursued Foyet? Still, it worried him. But they were stubborn, both of them, and Dave was aware at this point he just needed to have faith. He just really hoped Emily knew what she was doing.

* * *

_This one's relatively short, but I wanted to make sure that since Dave kind of ran into the crutch issue in "Alive" I didn't ignore it here. I hope Emily's logic made sense, I'm so incredibly worried that it didn't. I can't say I'm intimately acquainted with this kind of grief, so I'm going off of what I've been told through reviews on "Alive" and from trying to put myself in those shoes. Let me tell you, the latter is not a happy game. I want to play a new one. Preferably one that doesn't include now having to go finish the stupidest take-home exam of life. Anybody want to volunteer writing it for me? _

_If not, a review will make me equally as happy!_


	9. December 9: Almost Normal

December 9

Emily actually jumped when her phone rang. She'd been so focused on her work – she'd actually slept the previous night while in her own bed – and she hadn't been expecting a phone call of any sort.

"Prentiss."

"Hi Em'ly!"

She yanked the phone away from her ear as Jack's excited voice carried over the line. She shook her head, managing to withhold the chuckle that threatened to burst through. "Hi honey."

"Daddy says to ask if you can come for dinner!"

The tone of his voice told Emily he'd been carefully practicing. Then her mind processed the words and she found herself blushing despite herself and despite the fact that she knew better than to get so excited. "Did he now."

"Uh huh," Jack answered and Emily could almost picture his little head bobbing. "You're gonna come, right?"

When he asked like that, there was no way anyone in their right mind would be able to say no. "Of course."

"Daddy!"

Emily yanked the phone away from her ear again. They _really_ had to teach Jack about using the phone. She heard them in the background and focused on her files, keeping her ear open for when Hotch would inevitably pick up the phone.

"Emily?"

"Still here," she replied with a little smile, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she jotted something down on the case file in front of her.

"I'm sorry. He's-"

"A kid," Emily finished. "No apologies." Her voice had unconsciously lowered to an intimate tone as she leaned back in her chair to focus all of her attention on the conversation.

He cleared his throat. "You're coming for dinner?"

"If you want me there," she replied, valiantly ignoring the butterflies in her stomach.

"We both want you here," Hotch assured her. "Seven?"

She checked her watch. If all of her focus from the morning paid off, she'd probably even have time to run home and have a shower. "That'll work perfectly. Do you need me to bring anything?"

"No," he replied. "Just… just you."

There was a strange note of satisfaction and intimacy underlying his characteristically sad tone that she could just make out. "I can do that," she agreed.

"Okay. I'll see you later."

"Later."

* * *

Emily actually felt nervous as she looked at Hotch's apartment door. For the millionth time, she berated herself. This was Hotch and Jack. She'd held them both after tears and nightmares. This was just dinner. So to that end, she shook her head at herself and pulled out her key. Maybe letting herself in would remind her that this was just food, that she had absolutely no reason to be nervous.

"Hello?" she called as she disabled the alarm. She'd just thrown the deadbolts and was reaching to re-set the alarm when Jack's little feet propelled him around the corner.

"Guess what Em'ly!?"

"What?" Emily replied, swining the five-year-old into her arms before his nose impacted the wall or the floor. Then she set the alarm. It was partially habit on her part, partially because she knew Hotch was still extremely vigilant.

"Daddy let me help him cook!"

She laughed heartily. Hotch may have chosen the legal profession and then the Bureau, but he shared Sean's gift for cooking. At least that's what he'd told her. She'd never met Sean, so she couldn't say she was able to compare the two brothers. The few times he'd cooked for her, Emily had been relegated to the dining room or living room. Hotch never let her help. Jack looked utterly flabbergasted when she passed on that information.

"Never?" he asked in awe.

Emily smiled as she tapped his little nose. "Never. Which makes you _very_ special."

Jack giggled as she carried him into the kitchen. Hotch looked at home leaning over the stove in simple jeans and a t-shirt. Emily smiled. He seemed relaxed, though he'd always seemed that way in the kitchen.

"Daddy! Em'ly's here!"

Hotch looked over his shoulder, flashing her the only thing that had counted as a genuine smile since they'd found out about the US Marshall in charge of Haley's case. The fact that he was putting in the effort meant a lot. "Hey."

"Hey," she replied with a shy smile. She put Jack down as he tried to wiggle out of her hold.

"Daddy lets me help with the salad," the younger Hotchner informed her as he clamoured onto a chair positioned beside his father. "But he's always gotta stop to make sure nothing gets burnded."

"Burnt, honey," Emily corrected gently, stepping up behind him before turning to his father. "Jack and I can handle the salad."

He looked at her warily. "Don't go cutting your fingers off."

She rolled her eyes, inordinately pleased that he was teasing. _Today must have been a good day_, she thought to herself. They worked in tandem as Jack chattered on, their rhythm long-perfected for their jobs translating easily into their rhythm in the kitchen.

"Hey Jack?" Hotch interrupted the little boy's ramblings. "Why don't you and Emily set the table?"

Emily helped Jack put all of the dishes on the table, then laughed when the child basically pushed her back into the kitchen. She took advantage of the opportunity though. Having not seen Hotch for a few days, and considering his last breakdown, she wanted to see how he was doing. But, she'd resisted calling, knowing that would be crossing the line to nagging and hovering, exactly what she didn't want to do. So she leaned against the counter.

"How are you doing?" she asked softly, watching Jack from her vantage point as he climbed on chair after chair to properly set the table. She mentally shook her head as she watched Jack perfectly place the knives and forks. She made a mental note to watch and ensure that his apparent OCD – though she was sure Hotch would more call it organized and vigilant since he was the same way – didn't manifest itself into something a little more damaging.

"Today? I'm good," he replied honestly and Emily resisted her urge to grin at the way he didn't beat around the bush or try and lie. She liked that kind of rapport they seemed to have developed. "Tomorrow? I don't know."

"It's a roller coaster," she agreed sucking in a deep breath as Jack's foot slipped a she was climbing onto one of the chairs. "You didn't have to make dinner, you know. I would have been just as happy with take out. I could have picked it up."

She had to do a double take then, as an honest to goodness pink tinge appeared on his cheeks. Aaron Hotchner was blushing! He stirred, tasted, then held out the wooden spoon for her. "We wanted to say thank you," he said softly as Emily tasted their dinner for the evening.

His eyes were soft and Emily felt her insides warming and the butterflies returning in earnest. "This is good," she said, rolling the taste around in her mouth. "And you don't have to say thank you. This isn't an easy time, and I vaguely remember promising you that we'd be here for you."

Hotch's lip tipped up wryly. "Even so, you've done so much for me and for Jack. Dinner is the least we could do."

She tilted her head to the side. "What are we having?" It looked like chilli to her.

"Sloppy Joes," Hotch replied with a secretive tilt of his lips and a definite sparkle in his eye. It was subdued, but it was there.

She laughed.

* * *

Emily waited until after Jack was in bed to start gathering her things. It had been a good night, and Hotch had been in a much better mood than she'd really been anticipating so soon after he'd completely lost it. Still, it was a nice change and she'd had a good time. She smiled at Hotch as he came out of Jack's room, closing the door softly behind him.

"He's down?"

"Yeah. Exhausted."

"I bet. Between dinner and go fish…" Jack was a competitive child when it came to his card games.

"You can't forget taking over the world."

No, she really couldn't. It had been the last thing they'd done before Jack had gone to bed, and it had been almost like an Easter egg hunt to find all of the little soldiers around the living room. She pushed herself off the couch with a sigh.

"I'd better get going."

He didn't say anything while she gathered her things, and it was right when she was reaching for the doorknob that he stopped her.

"Emily," his quiet voice floated over to her.

"Hmm?"

He seemed nervous and she found her brows knitting in concern. Finally, he swallowed. "Stay."

Emily didn't have to think about it. It was so rare that he asked that she couldn't say 'no'. "Are you sure?"

"Please stay."

She smiled. "Okay."

* * *

_Story time with Kavi!_

_So this is, in my mind, an hour and a half late. But there's a story behind it. One, it involves the Sims. Two, it involves not being able to get a grip on what I wanted to do with this chapter. Three, it involves the fact THAT IT IS CURRENTLY SNOWING LIKE THE DICKENS AND MAKING ME SO HAPPY!! Fourth, because it was grey outside, I didn't want to wake up, so I slept until pretty much 10. Which, logically, would mean this chapter is going up after that. Good story, hey?_

_Now, before I get questions about Hotch doing this 180, remember, we haven't seen him in like a day, and just because this is a good day does not necessarily mean it's going to last. I'm hoping that came across in the story, but I never can tell with my brain, so I just wanted to make sure that we cleared up that Hotch's grief is like a roller coaster. He's got to stay strong for Jack, but he's not, as we so aptly describe him, Superman. He's more like Humpty Dumpty, (and thanks to rawpotato for such an excellent analogy) where he's broken and Em with help from Jack is trying to put him back together again. So he's going to have some serious ups and downs while he tries to find that balance between allowing himself to fall apart and being strong for his son. _

_Now, I really have to go study. I have a final Monday. For those of you who offered to do my take-home yesterday, it was finished so quick! I really should have had this chapter done yesterday, but I got distracted._

_For those of you looking for December or holiday prompts, sienna27 and I are just ironing out the details. I have the prompts so I just have to go through and pick some out. We're still not totally sure if we're going to do the full 25, or if we're going to narrow it down to more like 12 instead. Since it's a special time of year, it'll probably be more than the usual 6. So keep an eye out! I'll try and remember to put a note in the chapter I post the same day the prompts go up._

_Right. Studying. And while I do that, you guys can review, okay? I think that's a good deal._


	10. December 10: Gingerbread and Calendars

December 10

Emily had a surprise. Or, at least, that's what she'd said on the phone when Hotch had spoken to her around lunch time. He was a little nervous about it since the last time she'd surprised them he'd been forced to confront his separation anxiety issues with Jack. But she'd sounded so excited about it that he couldn't find a good enough reason to turn her down.

And he couldn't help the small smile that flitted across his face as he heard her key scrape in the lock, nor the warming in the general vicinity of his stomach. He closed the book he was reading and called out to Jack.

"Jack, Emily's home."

Sure enough, Jack came racing around the corner from where he was playing in his room, It was only Hotch's quick reflexes that caught his son before he ran head long into Emily's knees. And it was a good thing too since Emily's hands were perilously full. But the grin on her face was wide and her eyes were sparkling in barely contained excitement. Hotch felt some of his misery lift further as he took in her face, cheeks pink from the cold.

"Hey," she breathed out, heading straight for the table in the dining room.

Hotch perched Jack safely on his hip as he disarmed the alarm, deadbolted the door, and reset the alarm. She dumped all of her things on the table, her go-bag still hanging off her arm.

"I'm just going to go change really quick, I came straight from the office." She surprised him by pressing a kiss to his cheek as she passed them. "Make sure Mr Jack doesn't peek at his surprise!"

Her excitement and happiness was contagious, so much so that his heart had lifted considerably and Jack bounced against his hip.

"Daddy, let's look!" Jack exclaimed.

Hotch tickled his son. "You heard Emily," he chided over Jack's shrieking laughter. "No peeking."

"Em'ly!" Jack called. "Em'ly, Daddy's tickling me! Help!"

Her laughter floated over to the, perking Hotch's ears up. Between his inexplicable anticipation at seeing her and Jack's excitement, the usually all-consuming depression that had settled on his shoulders had lifted. It had been held at bay. She was beautiful all dressed down and domestic, but he couldn't get around thinking that she was his subordinate as much as she was his friend. Plus, he'd just lost his wife, he was in no way shape or form prepared to offer a supportive _anything_ with her. He was too broken and he'd proven that.

"Em'ly!" Jack's voice snapped him back and his eyes to her face. "I wanna see the surprise!"

She laughed, dropping her bag by the door then leading the way to the table. "Okay. But you have to listen to the story too, okay?"

Jack nodded his little head vigorously as Hotch settled him on one of the chairs. Emily slid two boxes Jack's way, both of them wrapped in festive paper. Jack tore into the first box immediately and Hotch recognized the brand name blazened across the top.

_Playmobile_.

"It's an advent calendar," she explained with a smile. "So when you go to bed tonight, your daddy and I are going to put all of the little toys that are inside into the little boxes and then every day, you can open one of the boxes and put it on the scene that the calendar comes with."

"I get'a open something every day?" Jack asked in awe.

"Mmhmm," Emily replied, glancing up at Hotch briefly. She hadn't run the idea by Hotch and she was a little nervous about presenting such a gift to his son. But she'd decided that Jack's Christmas had to come first. And maybe, if Hotch saw his son enjoying the holiday season, he'd realize that everything would be okay.

"Can we do it now?" Jack asked in excitement.

"No, sweetie," Emily replied with a shake of her head. "You can't see what's in the boxes. Then each day you'll know what you're getting."

Jack outright pouted for a moment, until Emily pushed the second wrapped package his way. Then, in pure childish fashion, his mind shifted almost immediately and he tore into the second box.

"Its a house!"

"A gingerbread house," Hotch agreed, rubbing Jack's back.

"I thought we could put it together before dinner," Emily said with a wide smile. "I used to do it all the time when I was a kid. It was a tradition at Christmas time."

"Can we make it, Daddy? Can we?"

Hotch had all but frozen as he'd seen the box. He remembered when he and Haley had first moved in together following this same tradition. It had been fun and challenging and he remembered icing almost everywhere but helping to hold the gingerbread together. He felt that misery creeping in again as he remembered the happier times. He looked down at Emily's concerned gaze as she rested her hand on his arm.

"We don't have to," she promised. "I just thought it would be a good idea for him to have a good Christmas. We can pick a different tradition."

"Does that mean we can go see Santa, Daddy?" Jack asked in excitement. "And decorate a tree? And Santa will come visit?"

All of that was true, but he kept flashing on those times with Haley, on having Haley and Jack together when his son was still an infant, his first Christmas, the first time he'd been able to open and enjoy his own gifts...

"Jack, sweetie, why don't you go play in your room for a bit, okay?" Emily said, helping the little boy down from the chair. She waited until Jack had scampered away before she turned to Hotch. "Come sit with me?"

He allowed her to lead him to the couch where they sat in the same position they had when she'd told him he needed to think about Jack. "Emily-"

"I know this can't be easy," she broke in softly, not meeting his eyes and twisting her hands in her lap. "I know that this is your first Christmas without her. I know that it probably hurts and it's probably hard to do things you did with Haley. I understand that. I just..." She let out an explosive sigh. "I want Jack to have a good Christmas."

She looked so completely sincere and he appreciated how much she'd come to care about Jack in less than a month. He really liked the idea of Emily as a female influence in Jack's life and he had been so happy and glad to have her around in the last couple of weeks while he struggled through grief and blame. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to celebrate Christmas without Haley. On the other side, he was also very aware that it would be good for Jack. So far, Jack hadn't shown the same all-encompassing grief he'd experienced, and, if he was honest, Hotch was glad for that. Emily had made an excellent point when she'd said that Jack was still a child and deserved to be that way as long as he could. Which meant that Jack deserved good Christmases too.

He swallowed. "I may not..." He choked on the words, but Emily was already nodding.

"I understand, and it's okay. If Jack and I have to do some of the things by ourselves, we'll do them by ourselves." Then she chewed her lip and he knew there was more coming. "I just... I hope you do come for some things. I think Christmas will be good for you too, just like it'll probably be good for Jack."

"I'll try." It was all he could give. But from the smile that curved her lips upward, it seemed to be enough. How had he managed to be blessed with such an understanding support, he wasn't sure, but this was one of those times he thanked whatever higher power there was that Emily Prentiss existed in his life.

So he took a deep breath. "Hey Jack. Come on, let's put this house together."

* * *

_Lovely inconsequential chapter, don't you think? Except for the fact that it's not. See, I wanted to make sure that it was actually stated that Emily wants to give Jack a good Christmas. And then I considered having them put together the house, and decided that it would just be going on into actually inconsequential parts of this chapter and that I had no really important thing to get across while they were making the house, so I didn't write it._

_Do you like it anyway?_


	11. December 11: Daddy's Boy

December 11

Emily looked down at Jack as he tugged on the edge of her sweater. She was doing the dishes, her contribution since Hotch had cooked. She smiled slightly. "What is it, sweetie?"

Jack chewed his lip. "Em'ly, can I have tonight with just me and Daddy?"

Emily's eyes softened. They'd kicked Hotch out of the house for a few hours and decorated only the front room. Emily had been reluctant to decorate any more than that. The last thing she wanted to do was press Christmas on him when he wasn't ready. She didn't want to overwhelm him. And she understood what Jack meant. She'd been spending the nights with these boys, admittedly curled right where she wanted to be even if it was sleepless nights. When Hotch was sleeping and not having nightmares, she enjoyed being cuddled up against his warmth. It was doing terrible things to her emotions.

Jack just wanted a night of him and his dad without her. A night just for the boys. "Of course you can. I'll just finish up these dishes first, okay?"

Jack nodded, then scampered away. Emily turned back to the dishes. She was actually partially glad that Jack had asked specifically for this time with his father. Because regardless of the bond she was forming with the five-year-old, the bond with his father was so much more important, both for father and for son. They were the only one the other had left that had any permanence.

And she knew Hotch had to talk to Jack about Haley sometime.

So, dishes done and dried, not to mention slid into their appropriate cupboards, Emily dried her hands one last time then headed back to the living room. The sight that greeted her was one of the most adorable things she'd seen in a long time. Jack was curled up against his father's side, his thumb in his mouth, while Hotch rubbed the small child's back. It warmed her heart to see this side of Hotch.

"Alright, dishes are done," she said quietly, feeling as if she spoke any louder that it would ruin such a special moment. She moved to the door and her shoes.

"Where are you going?" Hotch asked, sitting up and dislodging Jack slightly.

She held up her hand. "Stay there. I'm going home."

"Emily, you don't-"

She shook her head. "I'm going home." She made her way to the couch, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Spend some quality time with your son. I'll call you tomorrow."

--

Hotch was confused by Emily's abrupt departure. It wasn't like her to just leave and, if he was honest, he preferred to have her there during his weakest moments. He liked having her there when he was startled awake at three am. He watched her little wave from the door with confusion flooding him. Then it came to him. He'd hit that line. She was done. He was too broken now…

"Daddy?"

Hotch looked down at his son. "Yeah Buddy?"

Jack bit his lip. "Can we watch a movie."

"Of course,"' Hotch agreed, gently moving his son so he could stand. "What do you want to watch?"

There was silence for a moment before Jack said, "Mommy."

That stopped Hotch dead. He leaned back on the couch and pulled his son into his lap. "You really miss her, don't you?"

Jack leaned against Hotch's chest. "Yeah."

"I miss her too, Jack." He paused then realized that Emily had probably left for a reason. And his inability to put himself together hadn't been it. She'd been on the other end of that phone call. She knew what Haley had asked of him before she'd died.

_Promise me that you will tell him how we met, and how you used to be_.

"Hey Jack?"

"Yes Daddy?"

"I'm going to tell you a story about me and your mom…"

* * *

Hotch felt utterly emotionally and physically exhausted as he left Jack's room later that night. They'd talked about Haley, watched some of the videos that the US Marshall had filmed. He hadn't told Jack about what Haley had made him promise her, about making sure he learned that love was the most important thing. It was too abstract of a concept to explain to a five-year-old.

It had still been painful.

He ran his hand through his hair as he sat on the couch. He knew he was in for a long and painful night, and there was nothing he could do to dull the pain. His first slip almost a week ago had taught him a lot of things really fast and reminded him that it was different now. His life was different now. He had a little boy that relied on him and he was forced to think of that little boy first.

Not that there was anything wrong with that. Jack was his biggest blessing, and while he certainly did not wish to have gained custody of him because Haley had been brutally murdered, he couldn't argue that he was happy to have his son around more often.

Of course, he still had the BAU to consider. He hadn't really thought about what he was going to do. He wasn't sure if he was really willing to go back to the crazy hours, the insane time they spent on the road… He really wasn't sure what to do at all. He'd had time to think about it, and he had thought about it, long and hard. Still, he hadn't come up with a conclusion. He couldn't turn his back on his team, on the people they'd saved. But at the same time, he had Jack to consider. Jack relied on him, he was a single parent now. And even as he'd been leaning on Emily now, he couldn't do that if they were both away on cases.

He sighed, his mind a mess of thoughts. The only one that came up glaringly obvious in his consciousness was that he needed to call Emily. It was still relatively early – Jack was only five – so there was no reason she shouldn't be up…

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Hey." Her voice had softened considerably and he found a little bit of the tension leak out of him. "You both still alive over there?"

"Yeah," he answered. "We are." He chewed his lip for a moment. "Why did you leave?"

"Because you needed time with your son."

He could have time with his son while she was here. Hadn't they proven that? And tonight, having to relive the things with Haley, he needed her support and comfort tonight more than ever. He was raw again, his defences broken, and the only person he knew who seemed to have the tools to fix it, even if only temporarily, was her. "The truth, Emily."

Her chuckle surprised him. He'd fully anticipated her simply saying that she'd already told him the truth. "Jack wanted to spend tonight with just his daddy. He and I had a lot of time together while we decorated."

"And you can't say 'no' to him."

"You know, it's not nice to point out someone else's weak points, Buster," she chastised, though he could hear her embarrassment at being caught out. Really, he couldn't blame her, he had a hard time saying no to his son too.

"Did you guys have a good night?" she inquired.

"We talked about Haley."

There was a beat of silence. "How did that go?" Her voice was just barely loud enough to be heard over the phone.

"It was…" Hard. Terrible. Painful. Heartbreaking. "Exhausting."

Emily hummed her agreement. "He really misses her."

Since it was a statement, he didn't feel inclined to reply. He didn't want to relive it. He could feel the guilt creeping up in him again, that _he_ was the one responsible for the fact that Jack missed his mother.

"Don't." Her voice startled him. "Don't go down that road, Aaron."

The use of his first name caught him off guard, but it also did funny things to his insides. So very few people called him Aaron. Yet coming from her it seemed almost more precious.

"You can't keep beating yourself up. You made your decisions, and they were _good_ decisions. Haley and Jack, unfortunately, got caught up in the crossfire, but you didn't ask Foyet to go after them. Hell, Aaron, you put them into protective custody. You did everything you could think of to try and keep them safe. _That_ is what matters. And Haley knew that."

That didn't make him feel better. In fact, he could feel the lump of tears crawling up his throat. He cleared it, needed to hold onto control for at least the five minutes it was going to take to finish this phone call. Because now that all of that had been yanked from behind his wall, there was only one way to put him back together.

"I need you here," he said softly, not trusting his voice any louder.

"I'll always be here," she reassured him, her voice firm.

"No, Emily. Come here. Stay here tonight."

There was a beat, but this time she didn't ask if he was sure. They hung up, and Hotch felt some of the sadness leave. Not enough to stave off the tears, but enough that he felt a little bit of hope for sleep tonight.

* * *

_So, it is very late, I should have been in bed hours ago (when I'm typing this, not when I'm posting it), but I needed to get this done. I've had Christmas Eve floating around in my head for almost four days now and I'm in dire need of just writing it down, but I've been reading medical anthropology till I think I'm going to vomit it out. Which, I guess, in theory, could be good for my exam. Maybe a bit messy though._

_My point is this: I had no idea what to do with this chapter. Originally, it was supposed to be all about Jack and Emily decorating and Hotch finding Emily's Christmas gift while kicked out of the house (long story), but I couldn't come up with enough to make that chapter-worthy. And Hotch was supposed to talk with Jack about Haley tomorrow before I discovered that with Wednesday's ep, there's really not much I was willing to say that wasn't repetitive. So I put them together. However, this means that I've pushed up something like 3 days and I'm stuck for a whole bunch of stuff. I'm going to have to move things around a little bit. We're only at the 12th (where I'm writing) and I'm moving things I'd originally had slated for the 15th, so either I have to do some serious brainstorming, or someone's got to kick my muse in gear. Which one is better?_

_For those of you who play, there's a new set of prompts up! 25 prompts for December-slash-holidays. Even if you don't play go check it out and see if you can write something. Sienna and I are big fans of new writers in our forum!  
_

_Review and maybe there will be a Christmas tree in your futures!_


	12. December 12: Guarding Her Heart

December 12

Emily had just put together her morning cup of coffee when there was a knock on Hotch's door. The latter was not awake yet, as seemed to be usual for them. She didn't mind much. Not only had she convinced herself that she didn't need sleep when not on a case, but if he was sleeping soundly, it was a distinct change from his nightmare plagued slumber and she was reluctant to wake him. Especially since Jack had climbed into bed with them last night for the first time in a couple of days. Apparently talking about his mother had stirred up his nightmares too.

So, with confusion written all over her face, she checked the peephole, her eyes widening. What was Jennifer Jareau doing at Hotch's door this early on a Saturday morning? She opened the door with a bemused smile. But it was worth it to see the surprise and confusion that flitted over the blonde's face.

"Emily!"

"Good morning, JJ," she replied, sipping on her coffee. She tipped her head to the side. "Coffee?"

"If there's some."

She snorted in laughter. They drank caffeine like it was water so there was always coffee ready. "Come on in. Hotch isn't up yet."

JJ looked closely at her friend. "Rough night?"

Emily just nodded, leading the way to the kitchen. She knew JJ was watching her, watching how easily she moved about Hotch's kitchen with a familiarity of someone who had been here too much. "For both of them."

"Em'ly?"

Her attention shifted immediately to the little boy who was sleepily rubbing his eyes. "Hey, sweetie. Are you okay?"

Jack nodded. "Daddy's twisting."

That was Jack's way of saying his father was having a nightmare and Emily felt her lower lip pout slightly at the idea of him suffering through it without her. But it seemed odd to go and comfort Hotch in bed when JJ was there. She chewed her lip for a moment before saying _screw it_. After all, if her concern was that JJ would read into the situation, she'd be deluding herself to think she wasn't already. In fact, she'd probably come to a lot of interesting conclusions since she'd seen Emily answer Hotch's door. So, she ruffled Jack's head as she made her way towards Hotch's room.

Sure enough, Hotch was sitting upright, his head in his hands. She perched on the edge of the bed beside him, reaching out to run a hand softly through his hair. His eyes met hers, dark and pained.

"Morning," she said quietly.

He let out a monumental sigh.

She tried for a smile. "JJ's here."

"JJ?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah," Emily replied unable to stop a smile from twisting the corners of her mouth. "You know, blond hair, kind of small..."

"She's here?"

Emily nodded. "Probably to check up on you." She smiled more fully. "I don't think she was expecting to see me first thing in the morning answering your door." Of course, had she been in JJ's shoes, she probably would have been absolutely floored. It wasn't that the team didn't know that Emily was checking up on Hotch – heck, they'd pretty much left the job to her, aware that she'd done so well last time – they just didn't know the extent. There was definitely no one at the BAU who knew she was actually staying with them.

"Okay. Give me a few minutes."

She leaned over to kiss his head as she stood. "Take all the time you need."

He didn't take long, and he actually looked presentable as he came out of the bedroom, half stumbling to the coffee maker. JJ and Emily continued their conversation as if nothing had happened while Hotch prepared his coffee. Then, once he was sitting, their conversation tapered off.

Emily sighed as she eyed the little boy. He didn't need to hear this conversation. This was a friend checking up on another friend and both women knew Hotch was less likely to give truthful answers to his emotional state with Jack in the room. So Emily pasted on a smile and said, "Hey Jack, let's go cook breakfast."

JJ waited until Emily and Jack were back in the kitchen before moving to sit on the coffee table in front of Hotch. He was as good as a brother to her, and Emily was one of her best friends. She was seriously concerned. She knew how Emily felt about the broken man sitting in front of her and the last thing she wanted was for Emily to get hurt.

"Hotch, what are you doing?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

"With Emily," she clarified gently.

"What are you implying?" he asked warily.

JJ sighed. "Look, Hotch, I get that she's helping out and we're all glad she is. She seems to be the only one that can. But this can't be healthy for her either."

She was talking in riddles. "JJ-"

"You can hurt her, Hotch," JJ interrupted quietly. "Whether you know it or not, if you're not careful, she's going to get hurt."

His gut tightened. He couldn't imagine hurting Emily, not just because of what she'd done for him, but who she was for him. Seeing her and Jack playing together, laughing together, building together, had become his lifeline on dark days. When things got too rough, he thought of those moments, of their dinner only a couple of days before. Emily was his lifeline.

"I don't want to hurt her, JJ. The last thing I could ever want to do is hurt Emily."

The words were softly spoken, but as the media liaison searched the face of the man in front of her she could also tell that it came from a place of genuine emotion. It was that moment, that open look on his face that made JJ realize that maybe this _whatever_ between them may actually work out. Maybe she'd been premature in coming to Hotch with her concerns.

"I believe you," she answered quietly after a few minutes. Then she paused. "She's good for you. You don't seem as subdued."

"She's been helping out," Hotch agreed.

"She's been _staying_. This explains why she hasn't answered her home phone."

Hotch felt the heat crawl up his neck. It was one thing to know that the team was aware of Emily's role in his life, a completely other one when one of the team members knew they were literally sharing a bed.

"Hotch, if she's good for you, I don't want you to throw that away. I just want you to know that you have to be careful. Emily is in as testy of a situation as you are when it comes to this. When you hurt, she hurts, and heaven forbid if Jack's upset." JJ swallowed. "Just be careful with her okay?"

_Be careful with her heart_.

But that wasn't JJ's place to say. No, on the contrary, she couldn't say much of anything. She was sworn to secrecy on Emily's feelings, but this was the first time she'd seen Hotch seem so concerned about emotionally hurting Emily. "It wouldn't be the same without her here."

JJ smiled slightly, just enough for it to be considered one. "I hope you have a spectacular present for her then," she said quietly. "Because you're going to need it."

He winced and JJ leaned forward, close to his ear.

"You mean to tell me you do not have a present for her yet?"

"It's still early," he argued.

"No. August, is early. So is July, and June. December? Christmas is two weeks away, Hotch, that's not a lot of time," JJ hissed.

"Emily wouldn't want anything that could be found in a store," Hotch replied, shaking his head, not even realizing the words had come out of his mouth.

That didn't surprise JJ at all because once Hotch got thinking, it could be difficult to drag him out of his web of thoughts.

Hotch found himself looking towards the kitchen and his son's voice chattering away. With Emily around, Jack talked a lot more. And Emily, patient as always, listened. Patient, kind, gentle, supportive, strong... All of those things described the woman in the kitchen so perfectly. He chewed his lip. What was he supposed to get her?

He knew daffodils were her favourite flower and she hated daisies. He'd found that out when she'd received flowers on her desk, a bouquet of daisies from a man who was definitely now her ex, and promptly took them to JJ. She was an avid reader, books only, and everyone knew Vonnegut was her favourite author. His eyes widened. He had it. Vonnegut was her favourite author, but she'd once told Jack a story of how her favourite _book_ had been lost during one of her mother's tours of the Middle East.

He found his lips tilting up as he focused on JJ again. Then he sobered, her words coming back to him. "JJ..." He closed his eyes, his nightmare coming back to him. While he dreamed of Haley's death almost nightly, this was the first time the picture had flashed from Haley to Emily's apartment. When Emily had come into his room, he'd been trying to wipe the picture of her bloody corpse from his mind. "I could never hurt Emily."

JJ smiled. She didn't quite believe him, but she could also tell he meant it. If he had his way, if he could protect her forever, JJ had no doubt he would. The one thing she'd learned about Aaron Hotchner above all else was that when he loved, he loved deeply and with everything in him. When he cared, he gave his all. JJ had no doubt that he cared about Emily. She reached out.

"I'm not saying you'd do it consciously," she said, resting her hand on his arm. "I just want you to keep in mind that you have a lot more power here than I think you realize. You and Jack. Whatever happens while you deal with everything, you need to remember that Emily will be by your side, not because she feels an obligation, but because she _wants_ to be here. She _needs_ to be here."

Hotch still felt JJ was talking in riddles, riddles of power, of obligation and need, but he understood her sentiment. Still, beyond the few times he'd asked Emily to stay, everything she'd done had been her own choice. He hadn't asked her to make Jack's Christmas special. He hadn't asked her to even be a part of it. Maybe that's what JJ had mean when she'd said Emily needed to be with them?

"Guys, breakfast," Emily called from the kitchen.

Hotch felt JJ squeeze his arm as they both stood and he smiled. Never let it be said that his team didn't care about him. Then, as he met Emily's eyes, he made a mental note that after breakfast, he needed to get on the internet. He needed to buy her Christmas present.

* * *

Points to _Chiroho. This, sir, is basically half of the first two paragraphs of your PM all wrapped nicely into one! I owe you._

_Now, I've had a couple of reviews seriously concerned about Emily (don't get me wrong, that's perfectly okay! I'm glad you guys are worried about her!) so I figured it was time to clear a few things up and have someone specifically looking out for Emily's interest. Of course, at the same time, I could never have Hotch hurt Emily without good reason, and while okay, grief could be a pretty good reason, I still have a hard time seeing her get hurt because of something Hotch does in his grief. Well, kind of. UGH! My point is this: much like Hotch has had his day, Emily will get hers too. I'm going to have to tweak that chapter a little bit (It was written on like, the second or something!) now that I've had JJ come in here, but Emily will have her own version of heartbreak to deal with. Elsewise this would be a spectacularly one-sided story! And let's face it, not even Emily Prentiss is perfect in her strength. _

_And I'm sorry about this being posted late, even though it's like, half an hour. I overslept. Why, you may ask? Because I've had the Christmas Eve chapter stuck in my head and I hate stopping in the middle because the good ideas always go away, so I had to keep writing! For I-luv-to-write-law-and-order, I'm hoping to get it typed up when I finish with my questions for my final. Yay! Then maybe it'll be out of my head and I can get back to working on tomorrow! How about some Washington snow?_

_Now that all of my readings are out of the way, it's more likely that something else is going to get updated too. Either that, or I'm going to start delving into the December prompts. Which, if you haven't seen them, you need to go check out. Because there's 25 prompts and we'd love to see more authors use them! I know Chiroho wrote a few (which I was so happy to see!) and hot4cullenmen's made a few adorable contributions, but we'd like to see more! Please? Pretty please?_

_Okay, now that I've talk-typed your ear-eye off, review please! Let me know if JJ was in or out of line.  
_


	13. December 13: Too Dangerous

December 13

Hotch automatically reached out as the SUV lost traction on the third patch of ice. He heard Emily squeak and sighed as he pulled to a stop on the side of the road. "Emily?"

"I'm okay," she promised with a shaky laugh. "I'm just not a big fan of ice." She'd been in a car accident once because of black ice. This kind of weather terrified her to no end. It was snowing, just enough to make driving dangerous, but not necessarily such that they couldn't see. She was thankful Hotch was driving. She would have slept at the restaurant to avoid driving in this kind of weather.

They'd been out for dinner with the team after dropping Jack off at his aunt's. It was a low key affair, nothing fancy, no pressure, and he'd actually felt that atmosphere when they'd joined up with the team. He'd been reluctant at first, aware that he was really not good company at all, but Emily had been insistent. And when Emily put her mind to something, it was difficult to say no. So Hotch had called Jessica and asked her to watch Jack while they were out.

And if he was honest, he hadn't had a terrible time in the slightest. He'd forgotten the kind of people he worked with, forgotten about this little corner of family. But, as he ate and actually laughed, he was comforted to see that they hadn't forgotten about him.

"We're never going to make it to Jessica's and back in this storm," Hotch said on a sigh.

Emily chewed her cheek. "We have no idea where we really even are."

He nodded his head, then pulled his coat tighter around him and got out of the car.

"Aaron Hotchner where do you think-!"

Hotch shivered as he made his way slowly and carefully down the street, being careful to stick to a straight line. It wasn't a complete white out, just thick snow, but he'd been reluctant to drive further. It was so obvious Emily was terrified. Finally, he found a street sign, then sighed, the sound coming out as a puff of air. Slowly, carefully, he turned right around and followed his straight line path back to the SUV.

"Your place is closer," he said, once he was back in the warmth of the car.

Her brow creased in worry. "What about Jack?"

He didn't like the idea of leaving his son alone either, but he knew that if there was any place Jack was safer than his own home, it was at his aunt's. "We'll call Jessica when we get to your place," he replied. "It's too dangerous out here to be driving much longer." And the snow was falling thicker. As much as he wanted to be with his son, he was smart enough to know not to put Emily in danger to do it. If it was just him, that was one thing, but with Emily so obviously scared of the snow and the ice, he didn't want to put her in any more danger.

He was just about to throw in the towel and find the closest shelter to him when her street sign came into view. He had to swerve and back up to turn down the street, but they were that much closer. Eventually, he pulled up to the curb. Miraculously, there was a spot on the street and Hotch pulled into it, killing the engine. Then, just like at the restaurant, he turned to her. "Ready?"

"No," she answered wryly, even as she pushed open her door and climbed out.

He almost swore when he stubbed his toe on the curb, then just barely resisted the urge to do so when he realized they wouldn't be able to tell which one was hers. Emily tucked herself against his side. "I was counting steps," she told him. "We're just a few doors away."

He followed her lead, and thankfully it wasn't too long before they were climbing the steps. Once inside, Hotch closed the door as fast as he could, shaking the snow out of his hair. Emily's dark locks still had snow clinging to them as she slid her coat off and he found himself reaching forward and gently running his hand over her head. Emily's cheeks turned pink.

"You can go use the shower," she said as she took her coat into the kitchen to drape it over the counter.

"No," he started to argue.

"Aaron, you have to call Jessica. Go have a shower, and I'll shower while you talk to her," she said before his argument was even out of his mouth.

He was in and out of the shower rather quickly and he sighed as he realized he had nothing to wear. "Emily! I-"

"There's stuff on the bed," she called back before he'd finished his sentence. He blinked. Sure enough, there was a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt on the bed for him. His brow wrinkled and he quickly donned the clothing before heading downstairs. "Where did these come from?"

Her cheeks turned pink again, and he was pretty sure it wasn't because of the temperature change. "I swiped them," she admitted. "A couple of months ago, after Foyet's attack." Then she pouted. "They're comfortable."

She had used his clothes to sleep in a few times when she'd stayed in Jack's bed. He just wasn't aware she'd actually kept these things. And they smelled like her, which meant she'd worn and washed them. He opened his mouth, then promptly closed it as she held the phone out to him.

"I won't be long."

Then she was gone, and Hotch found himself sighing as he dialled Jessica's number.

"Hello?"

"Jessica, it's Aaron."

"Oh thank goodness you're okay. Where are you? Are you at home?"

"No," Hotch replied, looking out the window over the falling flakes. "I'm... staying with a friend." He swallowed. "I can't-"

"It's too dangerous for you to be driving," Jessica interrupted in agreement. "Jack will be fine for tonight. Did you want to talk to him?"

"If he's not asleep."

There was shuffling, then, "Daddy?"

"Hey Buddy," Hotch answered. He chewed his lip. "Emily and I won't be by to get you, okay? You're going to have a sleep over with Aunt Jessica."

"Do you have to go away?"

"No," Hotch replied, immediately and firmly. "I'm not going anywhere, it's just too dangerous for us to come and get you."

"But why?"

"Because there's snow and ice. Emily and I kept slipping on the ice already."

There was a pause where Hotch held his breath and then. "Okay, Daddy. But you're going to pick me up tomorrow right?"

"That's right," his father promised. "Now give the phone back to Aunt Jessica, please."

Once Jessica was back on the phone and had once again reassured him that it was much safer for everyone involved if Jack stayed with her and that, no, she didn't mind at all, Hotch relaxed a little. His separation anxiety was kicking in again and he sighed.

"Is there a number I can call? If..."

Jessica didn't have to finish the question. "Yeah..." Actually, he had no idea what Emily's landline number was. It wasn't a necessary number for him to have since she, like him, pretty much lived off of her cell phone. He breathed out a sigh of relief as she came down the stairs, dressed in flannel PJ pants and a long-sleeved thermal shirt. "Number?"

She blinked for a moment. "Mine?"

"Landline. For Jessica."

"Oh!" And she rattled off the numbers as she came to stand next to him. He repeated them to his sister-in-law.

"Okay," Hotch said, "I think that's everything."

"Aaron, you have nothing to worry about," Jessica repeated compassionately. He blessed her heart and thanked everything he could that she understood it wasn't _her_ he was questioning, he just knew his son. This was going to be the first night they'd been apart.

"I'll call tomorrow."

"Of course."

"Thank you, Jessica."

They said their goodbyes and hung up, then he looked down at Emily. Her face was a mask of concern.

"Is he okay?"

He smiled. "He's okay."

"Are you okay?" She recognized this would be the first night the Hotchner boys didn't sleep under the same roof since they'd been reunited.

He just nodded. For now, he was okay.

She cocked her head to the side, studying him. Finally, she said, "Come on. Let's watch something mindless." She extracted the phone from his hand, gripping his fingers in her own to lead him to the couch. Once he was seated, she sat beside him, her head tipping onto his shoulder. Hotch smiled, his hand coming up to rub her arm.

For now, he was okay.

* * *

_So, I'm not sure if this is a 'nothing' chapter or not. It does serve a purpose, to get Hotch out of the house and to Emily's place, and I guess, in some ways, he has to confront his separation anxiety again, but it still feels like there could have been more to it. Of course, I'm a terrible judge of that kind of thing, so I guess I have to leave it up to your guys, hey?_

_I know I didn't respond to many review replies and I'm sorry. My exam is tomorrow and I'm slowly leaking into the panic stage everyone gets before they write a final, so I haven't been replying. I probably won't get back into the swing of replying to reviews until tomorrow anyway with the exam, but we'll see. Tomorrow's chapter should still go up without too much of a hitch since I'm planning on getting it done as little breaks in between studying. Hopefully my muse won't bite my arm like it did today so I can buckle down and work._

_That doesn't mean you shouldn't still review! You guys are making my life by doing it. It's so great to see your thoughts and what you liked and didn't like about each of the chapters. _

_So please?_


	14. December 14: Panic Attack

December 14

Emily was startled awake by the shrill ringing of her landline. She actually jumped. Hotch was already reaching over her for the phone, though, and she hunkered back down into the blankets, having a feeling she already knew who it was. From the look on his face, he knew it too and though he did look tired, he didn't look as just-woken-up as she did. She sighed. He hadn't been sleeping.

This wasn't the first time Hotch had been confronted with his separation anxiety, but it was the first time he'd been forced into the role. He'd had no control over this particular separation, no choice, and Emily wondered if it was the same feeling he'd had when Jack and Haley had gone into protective custody. And it didn't take a genius to see where Jack was coming from.

The last time his daddy hadn't been around his mommy had gone.

Her eyes fluttered open as he moved from her bed, going to the window. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. He was _not_ considering going out in this! Jack would be fine for the next couple of hours and it would be better than him being killed trying to get to him. Well, assuming it was still snowing. But since her human thermos had gotten up, she realized it wouldn't kill her to check for herself. After all, if she was going to have to argue with him, she needed all of the logical facts first.

"It's okay, buddy. I'm still here."

She could hear Jack's little sobs as she stepped up beside him, putting her hand on his back and resting her head tiredly on his free shoulder. It was still coming down outside, heavier than it had been when they'd be driving home. She could barely make out the glow of the street lights below and sighed.

"Okay, okay," Hotch said and moved to pull away from her. But Emily refused not only to move her head, but her hand fisted in his t-shirt.

"You're going to get yourself killed," she said tiredly. She wanted to be asleep right now, even though her own concern for Jack was strong. Still, she recognized that if they could make it through one night, they could probably make it through a day just fine.

"Emily, he's-"

"I can hear him, Aaron," she replied, raising her head. Her eyes were compassionate. "And it's got to suck, but you're risking too much."

"There's no such thing as too much when it comes to Jack," he snapped back at her.

She did her best to stave off the exhaustion, to wake herself up a little bit more to have a rational conversation. "Can I have the phone please?" she asked quietly.

"Emily..."

"Trust me and please give me the phone," she said again, and for good measure added an almost-pout to the mix.

He looked at her dubiously, but handed her the little device. She winced slightly as Jack's wail came over the phone. "Jack, sweetheart?"

"I want Daddy!" he sobbed.

"I know you do, honey and he's right here beside me," Emily tried to soothe.

"I want Daddy!" the five-year-old repeated.

"Can you take a deep breath for me?" she coaxed, her grip tightening on Hotch's shirt. He was _not _going out into this storm. That was a death wish, and too many forms of stupid and...

Jack inhaled shakily, then sobbed again.

"Another one, sweetie. Take another deep breath for me, okay?" she said again, her voice gentle.

"I want Daddy." This one came out as a whimper and she steered Hotch back to the bed, sitting him down on the edge.

"I know, Jack," she said. She put her hand on the microphone. "Lie back."

He was outright glowering at her, but she could see the fear in his eyes. His little boy was panicking. Every instinct in him was telling him to go to his child, regardless of the danger and she understood that. Still, she also knew it was going to be too dangerous for him to be driving in weather like this. The last thing Jack needed was to lose his second parent so soon after the first.

"Aaron, you need to trust me, okay? Logically you know you shouldn't go out driving in this. You're going to get hurt, or worse, killed. There's absolutely no visibility out there. I know that's not what you want for Jack."

Again with the Jack card, but it had been effective in the past. It was this time too and even though he continued to glower at her, he leaned back against the headboard. She climbed over him, the phone still pressed to her ear. Then, she pressed herself against his side, holding the phone between their ears so they could both hear.

"Your daddy's right here, honey," she said, glancing up at Hotch.

"Daddy?"

"I'm here, Buddy."

"Can you come and get me? I wanna sleep with you."

Emily reached for his free hand, squeezing it tightly. His words, so small and quiet, with the remnants of tears, clenched her heart too, but she had to hold on. She was the only voice of reason and probably right now the only thing that would keep him from getting killed.

"Jack," she said. "Can you see outside? Can you go stand by a window for me?"

"Why?" Jack sniffled.

"Because I'm going to tell you a story, but it'll only work if you can watch the snow."

"I don't want a story, I want Daddy."

Emily looked up at him with pleading eyes. "You know I'm right," she said softly. "You can't go tonight, no matter how much you want to, no matter how much we both want to."

She wanted him to know that she wasn't doing this out of spite. She wanted to be there for Jack as much as Hotch did, but it just wasn't possible. Not tonight. Not with the way the snow was coming down. She was sure that if Foyet had not killed Haley, if this was a normal day – whatever that meant – that both father and son would see her logic. But it wasn't any other day, any other time. This was the reality, and the reality was, quite obviously, separation anxiety.

Separation anxiety that couldn't be immediately remedied by seeing each other.

Hotch closed his eyes. It was absolutely _killing _him to know that logically, Emily was very right. There was nothing he could do at the moment, not anything that would keep both him and Jack alive and deal with their anxieties. He swallowed thickly. "Buddy, I can't get to you tonight," he said, his voice choked. "The weather is too bad."

A wail sounded and both of them winced.

"Jack," Hotch said, almost sternly, enough to startle his son. Then he softened. "Jack, you are perfectly safe at Aunt Jessica's," he went on gently. "Nothing will hurt you, okay? And Emily and I are going to come and pick you up in the morning."

Jack sniffled.

"The bad man is gone," Hotch went on, squeezing Emily's hand in his own, taking in her scent, absorbing her comfort. "There is no more bad man to hurt you, Buddy. You're perfectly safe, and I'm perfectly safe."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise, Jack, nothing will happen to you or to me, and I promise the minute I wake up in the morning. I promise you."

Jack sniffled again, and hiccupped. "Em'ly?"

"I'm still here, honey," she reassured him.

"Will you tell me the story now?"

* * *

It was another hour until they were both off the phone and Emily sighed as she placed it on the bedside table beside Hotch. He was shaking, outright shaking, and his hand still gripped hers like a lifeline. She leaned her head on his chest.

"You did the right thing," she said quietly. "You did the only thing you could to keep you and Jack safe and sound."

Hotch swallowed. "Is it always going to be this hard?"

Emily blinked. The insecurity and vulnerability was new. Of course, she probably should have anticipated it, but it still hurt to hear. She very much didn't like it when he was in pain. "I don't know," she said honestly, entwining their fingers.

"What about when I go away on cases, Emily? What happens when I return to work? How am I going to be able to do my job when I can't be without my son?"

He was getting frantic, and Emily used her free hand to stroke through his hair, massaging his scalp as best she could. "You have time. You don't have to make the decision tomorrow, or even the next day. You don't have to worry about it until the New Year, and if you need more time, you can take that time. No one's rushing you back into the field."

If he was honest, at that particular moment, he wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to return to the field. Jack's sobs had torn his heart and until Emily had stepped up, he'd seriously been considering going to Jessica's to get him, screw the weather. It wasn't easy for him either and though he was an adult and logically knew that there was nothing that could happen to Jack at his aunt's house, he was still afraid that his son would disappear again. He wasn't sure how he'd take it the second time.

"Come on," she said quietly, squeezing his hand. "Try and get some sleep. There's nothing you can do until morning." She kissed his cheek. "And I know you weren't sleeping before. You told Jack nothing would happen, now you have to believe that yourself."

"Em..."

"Do I have to tell you a story too?" she asked playfully, her eyes shining as she looked up at him.

"No," he promised, the corners of his lip twitching. His other arm slid around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. "Thank you."

"Whatever for?" she replied. "I only told you things you already knew."

"I would have gone for him," Hotch answered. "Knowing it was dangerous, knowing I could get killed I would have gone to Jessica's to get my son."

"Yeah, but then you wouldn't have confronted your separation anxiety," she replied cheerfully, even as her eyes drooped. Now that the drama was over, she was tired again. "This way, maybe the next time the decision is taken out of your hands, you won't think about doing something stupid to try and fix it. He's going to grow up eventually and-"

"I'm going to have to let him go."

The sadness in her voice made her push herself up a little bit, looking him in the eye. "Aaron, it won't be letting him go. He'll just be living his own life. But he'll never forget you."

Hotch's lips tilted up slightly. "You know, you're really smart."

She was thankful for the dark, since her face heated up quickly. "Nah," she answered snuggling down. "I'm just really good at pretending to be."

She was seconds from drifting off when she felt him press a kiss to her hair and say, "Sweet dreams, Emily."

* * *

_You know what's funny? In every Christmas fic, the 12-15 bracket are always the one's I'm uncomfortable with. They're like a plateau in the growing mountain and it's like, nothing significant happens (potentially this chapter excluded because, well, separation anxiety is a __something) and these are no different. I'm not sure I like this one, simply because I'm not totally sure I dealt with the separation anxiety correctly. I feel like it should have been different, but since they were so separate... and it feels like Emily was a little harsh at the beginning, but she was tired and a little cranky from being woken so early..._

_So, next chapter is kind of what was originally going to be this chapter. And it was kind of funny to see how many reviewed to say that I could have dealt with the separation anxiety more. I figured everything would be okay until like early morning when Jack had a nightmare. Like, he'd be perfectly fine with it at the time because it's no different than before, but then he has this nightmare and BANG, he's freaking out._

_Funny story number 2: this is almost like the beginning of Jack starting to deal with his mother's death. I know, it's ominous, but you really didn't think I was going to let even the little guy get off easy, did you?_

_By the time you review this, I will have written my exam. Or I will be writing it. Either way, that leaves me day after day after day to write this story! So I'm taking requests for what else should be updated, because I can't update this twice a day, that goes against everything I hold near and dear. I have a request for Emily pregnant, so I'm going to try and work something out with that, but I know there's at least a few of you who want to see Fair Winds updated. Any other takers?_

_Review please! I had a fight with my mommy and reviews make my day._


	15. December 15: Separation Anxiety Recovery

December 15

Emily groaned as her cell phone rang. She'd gotten up at an abnormal time to try and drive the distance to Quantico. It didn't look like the snow had let up until early morning after pouring down yesterday. But snow didn't always stop the BAU.

"Prentiss."

"Hey Em, it's Derek."

"Good morning," she said tiredly. "I'm just leaving."

"Don't bother. I've got Garcia here and we're snowed in. Rossi called to say the same. The plows haven't gotten around yet, no one's getting anywhere."

That was music to her ears. She was _tired_. Still... "Are you sure?"

"Totally sure. I don't like the idea of anyone driving in this," Derek repeated.

"Have you called JJ?"

"I'm about to."

Emily nodded. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wake up at your normal time tomorrow, okay? If it's still too crazy, we'll have to take another day."

Once she and Derek had hung up, Emily stumbled back up the stairs and to her room. Hotch was still asleep, but as she crawled back into bed after changing back into her pyjamas and leaving her clothes in a crumpled heap on the floor, he stirred.

"Em?"

"Mmhmm," she replied, cuddling back against the pillows.

"It's early."

"It's snowing," she replied, her eyes closed. "I had to get up early to try and get into the office."

His eyes blinked open. Right. It was Tuesday. "Oh."

"Mmhmm. But Derek said no one's going in. So I'm going back to sleep."

The snow had not stopped falling the previous day and, with all of the snow the night before, the city had not been cleared. It had been a trying day for both of them. Jack had not been happy that his father could not come and get him when he'd promised. Emily had spent her day ping-ponging between making sure Hotch didn't lose it, and dealing with Jack on the phone when he did. To make it worse, Jack had been calling almost hourly at night and she'd been up with Hotch each time. She had no idea when the snow had stopped, but Washington had been thoroughly dumped on.

Hotch's hand stroked her back. "I need to thank you."

"Hmm?" she was already back to half asleep. She'd never gotten a sip of her coffee.

He leaned down, his mouth close to her hear. "Thank you."

Emily's eyes opened again, surprised. "Why?"

"Emily... you've done so much for me and Jack. I owe you so much."

Her hand came up sleepily, resting on his cheek. "You don't owe me a thing. So long as you and Jack are okay, that's all that matters."

"Emily..."

"No," she mumbled. "This is what you do when you care about someone."

Hotch smiled, then took her hand in his own and tucked it against his chest. "Sleep, Em."

* * *

Hours later, her doorbell startled them both awake. Emily outright groaned. Why couldn't anyone just let her sleep in peace. Reluctantly, she pushed herself out of bed and stumbled towards the front door. Whoever it was had better have a good reason to be waking her up. She sighed as he recognized her elderly nextdoor neighbour in the peephole.

"Hi Mrs Harley," Emily greeted.

"My my my, Emily look at you!"

Emily ran a hand through her hair. "I've had a long couple of days."

"Are you working too much again? You need to take a break every once in a while and it _is_ the holiday season."

"I haven't been working, Mrs Harley," Emily said with an affectionate smile. The elderly woman was nosy at the best of times, but Emily had to admit, it was kind of heart-warming to know that there was someone around looking after her. "We had a bad case and we've been grounded until the new year, for the sake of all of us."

"Then why on earth are you so tired, dear?" the elderly woman asked. Then her eyes turned mischievous. "Don't have a man in there do you?"

Emily closed her eyes. "Did you need something?"

"Of course not, dear, I was coming to check on _you_. And, it's my annual cookie distribution."

Emily's eyes lit up at that. There was no one in the world who made better cookies than her neighbour. She grinned widely as she accepted the tin. "Thank you," she gushed. "I've looked forward to these all year."

Then a spark hit her. When the roads were clear, maybe Jack would like them too. She'd have to keep that in mind the next time the five-year-old called.

"Emily? Is everything okay?"

Emily just barely resisted the urge to groan. She was never going to live this down. "Yeah, Hotch. It's my next-door neighbour."

"Well don't leave an old lady standing outside!" Mrs Harley demanded and Emily had the gut feeling that she wasn't appealing to the manners of an ambassador's daughter for anything other than her personal gain. She had a morbid fascination with Emily's lack of a love life. Hotch was probably the second man Mrs Harley had ever discovered. Though, granted, it was cold outside.

Emily stepped back and the elderly woman bustled in just as Hotch was coming down the stairs. Emily looked at him apologetically. "Hotch, meet my neighbour, Mrs Harley. Mrs Harley, Aaron Hotchner."

"Well aren't you a fine specimen!" Mrs Harley exclaimed, all but dumping her snow gear in Emily's arms and heading for Hotch. She placed her hands on his cheeks, ignoring his startled look, turning his head this way and that. "This is much better than the other idiots you've brought home. Except for the sadness in this one. And the guilt. You carry a lot of sadness and guilt, young man."

Emily almost winced. "Mrs Harley, would you like a cup of tea?"

"Only if you both will have one with me."

"I, um, have to..."

Emily nodded and Hotch headed back upstairs. He had to call Jack. She'd done everything she could, but there was still a heck of a lot of anxiety in both of them at being separated this long. She was starting to doubt that Hotch would return to the BAU once this was all over, solely because he couldn't seem to be able to go more than a few hours without seeing his son. Not that Jack was any better off, by any stretch of the imagination.

"Is everything okay, dear?"

Damn that woman and her perceptiveness. It was almost as good as Jack's and he had childhood innocence to play on. Emily mustered up a smile. "Everything's fine. It's just... busy."

"Emily, you have no decorations up," Mrs Harley said sternly. "That is not like you."

Emily chewed her lip for a moment. It would be nice to talk to someone else for a change, get a different perspective. "Hotch... lost his ex-wife to a serial killer."

Mrs Harley gasped. "No!"

Emily nodded sadly, looking away from the elderly woman's eyes. "He's got a son. Jack's five and... he was at his aunt's when the storm hit. The snowstorm, I mean. And they just lost her a few weeks ago and they were apart before that because Haley and Jack were in protective custody... It's been a mess."

"That's why he's so sad."

Emily shook her head. "I've been trying to help him, trying to get through to him, trying to make things easier, but I don't know if I'm really helping. I may only be hurting myself."

The knowing look in Mrs Harley's eyes made her stomach settle just a little. She wouldn't have to tell the other woman about her feelings. She was thankful. This way, Hotch wouldn't have to know that she was pretty much in love with him.

"Emily?"

"Yes?" Emily looked up as Hotch came down the stairs, phone in hand.

"He wants you."

Emily couldn't stop the smile from slipping over her face as she accepted the phone from Hotch's hand. "Jack?"

* * *

Later that night, they were back at Hotch's apartment, Jack happily snacking on Mrs Harley's Christmas cookies. They'd thrown a movie on when they'd gotten in. It had taken the better part of the morning for plows to get the roads clear enough to drive safely, and the minute they had, Hotch and Emily had been gone. Emily was sure they'd made it to Jessica's in record time, and Jack didn't even wait for his father to get out of the car before he was racing across the snow.

He'd barely let go of his father since.

Eventually, Jack's head drooped onto Emily's shoulder, the cookie falling into his lap. It was only then that Emily, leaning against Hotch's shoulder, looked up at him. "You did well this weekend."

"I'm sorry?"

"With the separation anxiety. I expected to be fighting harder."

He looked away. "I knew you were right," he admitted. "But..."

"Hearing him that upset bothered you. It bothered me too." In fact, bothered was an understatement. "But you made it through."

"I couldn't have done it without you," he admitted. "I'd have driven through the very worst of conditions to get to him."

"He was safe," she replied. "If he wasn't safe, I would have been right alongside you."

There was silence for a moment, then Hotch's hand came up to his son's back. "I keep having to remind myself that George Foyet is gone. I keep thinking he's in danger, that I'm going to lose him."

"He's right here," she said, pressing his hand against the warm skin of his son. "He's right here, and he's not going anywhere. Just like you told him you weren't."

Hotch nodded slowly. "Let's go to bed."

She couldn't argue with that.

* * *

_So, this is a lot of snippets of something. Part of me feels like I could have flushed out the whole neighbour angle a little more, but hey, maybe she'll pop up later in the story when I need her to do my bidding. _

_Thanks to all of you who wished me good luck on my exam! And I promise things have been temporarily resolved with my parental unit._

_Thankfully, 16 & 17 are written, though I'll probably look them over in the context of what I have before I post them. After that I think I'm going to use a couple more Christmas 'traditions' to flesh out the relationship between them. I've had a whole bunch of people who want to see a skating moment with father and son, so maybe I'll work that into things. Though, they still have to go tree hunting, which will be important for Jack._

_So, like I ask every chapter, review? Pretty please?_


	16. December 16: Unrequited

December 16

Hotch ran his fingers through the silk strands fanned across the pillow in his lap. Emily was asleep, Jack curled upon her chest. This was what Haley had wanted for their little boy. It was her last wish, that her boy know love. Hotch wasn't sure when he made the promise how, after loving and losing Haley, he would ever be able to teach Jack to love again.

He hadn't anticipated Emily,

Sure, Hotch had leaned on her after his own stabbing, but never had he considered that she'd be willing to extend that support again, not only to him this time, but to his son. But, if anything, it seemed to keep her that much closer. He appreciated it. He appreciated her.

"Aaron, you're thinking too loud."

His smile was real and gentle a he looked down. Her eyes were still closed. "I didn't know you were awake."

"Are you kidding me?" Emily asked, her eyes opening languidly. "I'm sure even Europe can hear the wheels turning in your head."

Hotch leaned his head back against the couch cushions. When he opened them again, he noticed Emily rubbing her hand up and down Jack's back. "I really should thank you," he said.

"Hmm?" she questioned, her eyes fluttering open in confusion. "What for?"

"For everything," he replied. "You're... amazing. You've been amazing. Now, since Foyet's attack, before that..."

One of her hands reached up to grasp one of his, squeezing gently. "Aaron, it's just what you do for people you care about."

"You didn't have to step up with Jack." He couldn't seem to stop the fingers of his other hand from combing through her hair.

"You boys needed help," Emily replied. "And honestly, Jack's a fantastic kid. He's smart, he's perceptive... I think that's what's gotten him through this. I think that's what's going to help him make sense of it."

"You've done a lot, Emily. Don't discount what contribution you've made." He paused for a moment. "And you've done a lot for me too."

He had no idea how she did it, but she ended up shifting with Jack until the little boy was curled in her lap instead of over her front. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "You know, Aaron, Jack reminds me very much of you."

He found his arm curling around in a familiarity they'd developed. He was more and more tactile with her these days. "He does?"

"Mmhmm," she responded quietly. "Sometimes he gets this look on his face when he's concentrating that is so you it's almost terrifying."

Hotch's face fell.

"He's got your concentration too," she continued. "And I already told you he was smart and perceptive. But you know what's most alike about the two of you?"

He couldn't stop himself from tilting his head down against hers, resting it on her hair. "I'm listening."

"He's capable of so much love."

That shocked Hotch as he pulled away and Emily tipped her head back. There was a smile on her face. Hotch looked over at his still sleeping son, his hand coming over to rest on the boy's head.

"I know it worries you," she said quietly. "I know you think you can't show him how to love."

"How?" he asked in surprise.

"I see it," she replied. "You love your son, Aaron, no one questions that and no one ever will. And the team knows you love them, we've never doubted you."

Hotch's hand stroked Jack's hair. "Do you think..." He felt himself flushing.

Emily cocked her head to the side. "You can tell me," she encouraged.

Hotch closed his eyes. "Haley made me promise her something before..."

Her hand rested on his. Even though she already knew where this was going, even though she'd been on the phone and heard the promise, if he wanted to talk about it, she was going to listen.

"The only thing Haley asked was that Jack learn about love," he finally said. "She wanted Jack to hear about how we met, for him to know I wasn't always so serious." Evetually, he looked at Emily. Her eyes were compassionate, sympathetic, but there was something else in her gaze he couldn't put his finger on. It was almost hurt.

Emily forced herself to keep breathing. The way he talked about Haley... There was no way anyone could doubt that he was still in love with her. And not just in the 'mother of my child' sense either. In the sense that made Emily realize she probably didn't really stand a chance.

Before he could ask, Jack stirred. "Daddy?"

"I'm right here, Buddy." Hotch said immediately.

Jack climbed into his father's lap and much to Hotch's surprise, Emily stood. She moved away from the couch towards the door, reaching for her shoes.

"Where are you going?" He found himself asking with trepidation.

"Home," Emily replied.

He know that hadn't bothered her before. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. "Why?"

"I've overstayed my welcome," she answered with a smile he could tell she didn't feel. "I'll see you boys later."

Hotch looked down at his son in confusion. What had he done?

* * *

_This is short, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but here it is. I kind of have 17 done, I just have to add a bit and polish it up. _

_And before I get a slew of reviews telling me that Emily didn't say anything when she walked out, it's all going to be explained. And remember guys, she puts on this thick shell, but we all know the only thing she wants is to be loved. Of course, in this case, by Hotch. It'll all come together. Then I'm torn between Christmas shopping, Christmas tree hunting and skating. I'm really not sure which one I want to do._

_Review please?_


	17. December 17: For Jack

December 17

Emily sighed as she stuffed her keys back into her purse. She really was in no mood to do any gift shopping, to partake in the usual laughter that accompanied anything with her best friends. That in itself was odd, but she'd woken up depressed and melancholy. And she couldn't even claim to be clueless as to why. To top it off, it wasn't like it was something she could control.

"Emily!"

She tried to paste on a happy smile for Penelope's excited sing-song voice. "There you are!" she said.

Even JJ raised an eyebrow at Emily's lackluster tone of voice. "This is not the Christmas-loving Emily we're used to." She shifted Henry on her hip. "What's going on, Em?"

"Nothing," the brunette replied, reaching for the baby. "It's nothing."

Penelope actually snorted. "Peaches, if you think we're going to believe that for a second you are so many forms of wrong. You're usually bouncing off the walls this close to Christmas."

"I had a rough night," Emily answered, genuinely smiling as she rubbed her nose against Henry's. The little baby giggled.

"Stay over at Hotch's again?" Penelope asked, the tone of her voice implying what she was insinuating they'd been up to.

The shake of Emily's head quashed that teasing quickly. The only thing the brunette kept focused on was Henry as she forced back tears.

JJ settled her hand on Emily's arm. "What happened?"

Emily blinked, breathing in. "He's still completely in love with Haley."

"Sweetcheeks, it's only been two weeks," Penelope tried.

But even JJ shook her head. While both women knew how close Emily was to Hotch and about the feelings in Emily's heart, only JJ had been by that morning to see how deeply they were reciprocated in Hotch.

"What happened?" JJ repeated for the third time.

"It wasn't an event," Emily replied. "It was... Haley made him promise to teach Jack about love." She shivered, aware she didn't have to tell them more. They'd been on the same end of the phone call she had. "It wasn't that he said it-"

"It was how he said it," JJ finished.

"It's stupid, isn't it," Emily said, smiling as Henry reached up to bat at her cheek. "I'm being stupid."

"You're in love with him," Penelope pointed out. "There's nothing stupid about that."

"There's everything stupid about that," Emily replied with a dejected sight. "I'm in love with a man who can't get over his now-dead ex-wife." She immediately winced. It has sounded totally and completely callous, and totally not what she'd meant to say.

She understood where Hotch was coming from. After all, he blamed himself for Foyet, for her death. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Foyet had done his job. They'd all been on the other end of that call, they'd all heard how hard Hotch fought to get Haley to ignore Foyet's taunting words. But in so many ways, Foyet had hit every weak spot in Aaron Hotch's armour.

But she'd thought they were getting somewhere. She'd thought that things were changing and while she knew and understood that Haley had been a big and important part of him, and she would never think that he was really getting over her, she'd really thought that things were starting to shift, that he was looking at her differently. She'd thought some of the emotion and attraction was shared between them. She'd _believed _it.

The emotion in his voice as he reminded her of that promise he'd made Haley made her heart shatter.

"Emily."

Her eyes snapped back to JJ.

"I need you to listen to me," the blond urged. This was _exactly_ what she'd been hoping to avoid by talking to Hotch the week before. But apparently her message hadn't gotten through. "Hotch will _always_ love Haley. There's nothing you can do about that. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't care deeply and strongly about you. He's proven that. And now he has to make a decision, he has to adjust. Foyet is no longer a threat. He's dead. But Hotch is so used to hiding everything to protect everyone around him. It's going to take him a while to remember that he can show emotion. More than that, it's going to take him a while to realize that he's not putting anyone else in danger by loving them, and by being loved in return."

Emily knew what JJ was trying to get at and it did lighten her heart some. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start, and it was enough for her to take a deep breath and put on a smile that was definitely a few watts brighter than the first one she'd graced the girls with.

Penelope linked arms with Emily as JJ took her son and settled him back into his stroller. "Okay, chickies, let's get going. I have a list to get through and it's not a short one."

Emily nodded, shoving Aaron Hotchner back into a box in her brain. She had her own list and her dark thoughts weren't going to help.

Aaron Hotchner could wait.

* * *

She was just putting the finishing touches on her sixth gift for Jack – she hadn't been able to help herself, and really, Penelope was already spoiling Henry silly – when her phone rang. She sucked in a breath. She had no doubt of who that would be and she debated not answering it before her manners kicked in.

"Hello?"

"Em'ly, why did you go away?"

She blinked. Okay, not exactly the person or the greeting she'd been expecting. And she wasn't sure if this call was for Jack's benefit, or his father's yet. "I had a few things to do sweetie. Like wrap your presents." God, she hoped that would distract him, he'd been crying too much recently and Emily was about ready to move heaven and earth to make sure it didn't happen again. She would probably die if she saw Jack break down, considering her visceral emotional response to his father doing the same.

"Oh," Jack said. "Is that why you're not here now?"

"I'm wrapping your present," Emily nodded. "And I can't wrap it with you there or it won't be a surprise!"

"Can't I get just one little hint?"

"Nuh uh, mister. But I know you're going to like it."

"But how do you know that?" There was a genuine note of happiness threading through the five-year-old's voice, and she wondered how he and Hotch had coped all day.

"Because Santa and I are close friends," Emily replied.

"Oh." Then there was a beat. "Will you bring my present over after you're done wrapping it?"

Emily bit her lip. On the one hand, how was she supposed to say no to an adorable five-year-old that wanted to see her? On the other, she wasn't sure it was such a good idea considering how the last time had gone. She didn't want to get hurt again, and she knew Hotch had no idea he'd hurt her.

Well, he knew he had, but he didn't know how. And she really wasn't ready to have that conversation with him. Certainly not now, maybe not ever. There were a lot of depending factors in it.

"I don't know, honey," she finally settled on. "Where am I going to put it?"

There was a moment, then, "oh."

And, like clockwork, Emily managed to yank the phone away from her ear seconds before Jack bellowed to his father that they needed to find a Christmas tree. She sighed. Then came the jangling of the phone and Emily froze. She didn't want to talk to Hotch. She wasn't ready to answer all of the questions he probably had.

"Emily."

She chewed her lip. "Hi."

There was a moment, then. "Is everything okay?"

He hadn't meant to hurt her. It wasn't his fault that she'd read into his tone of voice, the way he'd said the words. Logically, she knew that. On the other hand, it didn't really matter to her emotional state.

"Everything's okay," she replied, trying to inject some sort of cheerfulness into her voice.

Then she heard Jack whine, "You gotta ask her, Daddy!"

That poked Emily's curiosity. "Ask me what?"

"Um... As you pointed out, we don't have a tree. We were thinking of going tomorrow." Then there was another pause, as if he was unsure. "We were hoping you would come with us."

"Please Em'ly!" Jack yelled.

"I don't know," she said honestly. She heard Jack ask his father for the phone and winced. This was not going to turn out pretty. Saying 'no' to Hotch was one thing, saying 'no' to his five-year-old son was another. She couldn't stand to see Jack upset in any sense of the word. And if the boy had realized that, she was going to be screwed.

"Em'ly, you gotta come! You gotta come help Daddy and me! You said we were gonna do all sorts of traditions, so you gotta come, Em'ly. Please?"

Oh God. He'd used please and logic. Good logic too, since Christmas _was_ her favourite time of year. And, as Mrs Harley had been so nice as to point out the previous day, it wasn't like she'd decorated her own apartment for Christmas. It was another one of those traditions she had a blast experiencing. She closed her eyes. Jack had played on her every weakness.

"Sure, honey," she said finally. "You tell Daddy I'll be by after work, okay?"

"Yay!" Jack exclaimed. "Okay. Bye Em'ly!"

She hung up the phone. She could do this. She could go tree hunting with them and be back to normal, couldn't she? She'd have to. Because there was a little boy who was counting on her to be there and she'd be damned if she let him down.

* * *

_Has anyone ever seen that children always seem to instinctively know how to manipulate people? And manipulate is the wrong word because it's a negative one, but I'm sure you guys know what I mean. It's exactly what Jack did here with Em. _

_I know you guys were thinking tree hunting was going to be a father-son activity, but there are good solid reasons Emily's going to need to be there. Maybe skating will be the father-son bonding activity, though I have a great scene where Jack's helping Hotch wrap presents. Which is adorable and totally necessary. It's a chapter that will be recognizable to some of you, since you've all been so incredibly helpful in trying to fill in the days I'm missing. I owe people like rawpotato, SignedSealedWritten, Harleyzgirl, chiroho, among others who have given me little ideas here and there. You guys are so great. Thank you so much._

_And I know I responded to MAYBE 2 reviews yesterday. Much to my own chagrin, I managed to get caught up playing Sims almost literally all day and thus, never took the time to stop and reply. I'm on holidays, so I'm a bit of a basketcase of happiness being able to do whatever I want and not feel guilty that I have work to do. But I want to say thank you to each and every one of you, even the lurkers, for reading. For those of you who dropped me a line over the course of the last seventeen chapters, you've all been amazing. So many of you are being so detailed in your reviews about what you liked and didn't like and I'm pretty sure my mother thinks I'm insane with the way I've been bouncing off the walls because you guys have taken the time to review. I appreciate it more than words can say.  
_

_I hope this chapter works for everyone!  
_


	18. December 18: Back to Square One

December 18

Emily chewed her lip as she knocked on Hotch's door. She really wasn't sure how she felt about this excursion. After all, regardless of what JJ believed, Emily had a different opinion. And staying with the man she was in love with when he was in love with someone else just seemed like she was asking to get kicked around a little bit more. It was going to be terribly difficult to love Jack when it was almost painful to be around his father.

"Em'ly, 'sat you?"

"Yes sir," she replied, a smile involuntarily coming to her face. Regardless of her mood and her attitude towards Hotch, Jack would make her smile. With a couple of childish grunts, the door swung open and Jack grabbed her legs.

"I missed you!"

She'd only been gone a day! They'd talked last night! Emily felt tears come to her eyes. "I missed you too, honey," she replied, dislodging him from her legs so she could wrap him in her arms. "Did you have a good day with Daddy yesterday?"

Jack nodded. "But it wasn't the same without you." Then he tilted his head to the side. "I think you confussed... confruised..."

"Confused?"

"Yeah! That! I think you did that to Daddy."

Well that didn't surprise her. Still, she hadn't felt like explaining to him that she was in love with him when he was in love with Haley. That would have taken them down a _very_ awkward road, and she'd probably never see Jack again. She didn't know how to reply to that, so she focused on their day instead. "Why are you not dressed to go out?"

Jack giggled. "We were waiting for you!" he exclaimed, wrapping his little arms around his neck. "Daddy says we're going to get a _big_ tree."

The father in question stepped back into the room then and Emily tried not to look wary as she met his eyes.

"Hey," she greeted quietly. She continued to hold Jack, almost like a little shield.

"Hey," he replied.

It was Jack who broke the silence that settled on the room. "Daddy! Let's go!"

"You don't even have your snowsuit on," Emily exclaimed with a laugh.

It didn't take long to get Jack ready to go and Emily was surprised that despite her less than enthusiastic greeting, she and Hotch made quick and efficient work of getting Jack into his snowsuit. After that, she took charge of ensuring Jack got safely buckled into his car seat while Hotch gathered his things.

He caught her arms just before he opened her car door.

"I'm really glad you agreed to come with us," he told her softly but sincerely. His hand squeezed her arm as he offered her as much of a smile as he'd been able to muster.

Despite the hurt that still lingered, the bittersweetness of seeing him tree hunting... it had made the ice around her heart start to melt. He'd just chipped away part of the wall she'd put back in place to protect her heart. She sighed slightly as she climbed into the SUV. She just hoped she could keep herself together for a little bit longer.

* * *

It wasn't as far to the tree lot as Emily had thought. Once they were there, Jack having chattered the whole way, Hotch pulled him out of the car seat and crouched down as Emily slid on her mittens and earmuffs.

"Remember what we talked about, okay? You stay where you can see us because if you can't see us..."

"You can't see me," Jack finished with a solemn nod. "I 'member, Daddy."

"Good," Hotch nodded approvingly and couldn't help the twitch of his lips when Jack immediately reached out for Emily's hand.

If he was honest, he'd been a little apprehensive about allowing Emily to come along. It wasn't that he didn't want her there – quite the opposite actually – but more that he knew he'd hurt her. He'd seen that much in her eyes and he hadn't been sure she had wanted to see him. Part of the issue was that he didn't know what he'd done, didn't know what he'd said, that had upset her. He wanted to fix it and had wanted to fix it since she'd walked about, but not knowing what he'd done was a severe impediment to the process. But he also knew Emily and knew that coming right out and asking wouldn't change anything. In fact, it was likely to make her retreat further into her shell and that was exactly what Hotch didn't want.

Jack started out fine. He seemed excited and happy, but then, as they kept going, as Emily kept asking him which tree he thought was the right one and to just holler if he saw something, Jack slowly started to get quieter and quieter. Eventually, he tugged on Emily's hand.

"I wanna go home," he said when he had the attention of both of the adults.

He caught Emily's perplexed glance. He didn't know either, so he crouched down to Jack's level. "We don't have a tree yet, Buddy," he said quietly. "You wanted a tree."

"I don't want one anymore," Jack said, his voice rising slightly.

Emily immediately went into damage control, scooping him up and hugging him close. "You were excited about it a minute ago, sweetie. What happened?"

Jack just shook his head. "I don't wanna tree. I wanna go home."

"Daddy and I just want to know why you want to go home," Emily soothed, her voice going soft. "Can you tell us why?"

Tears started to pool in Jack's eyes as his mittened hand gripped her jacket. "I wanna go home."

"Okay, how about you stay with Emily and I'll go find a tree," Hotch suggested, panic rising in his eyes.

Jack shook his head. "I wanna go home, now!" Then, he was crying and he clung to Emily's coat, burying his head in her shoulder.

"Okay," Hotch said immediately, reaching out for his son. "We'll get you home

Jack whimpered and clung tighter to Emily and Hotch watched the flash of pain go through his eyes. He wanted to comfort his son while he was crying, Emily knew that, but sometimes, it just wasn't up to you. It was a few moments later that Jack started to struggle. She held tighter, not wanting to drop him.

"No!" he called, pushing against her shoulder. "I want Mommy!"

_Oh crap!_

Emily's eyes snapped up to Hotch and she almost swore as she saw everything flood his vision. She started running through every swear word in her head. Why couldn't Jack have done this when they were at home? Not that she begrudged him the reaction, he was just a little boy and she was sure the last thing Hotch wanted to teach Jack was how to bottle up emotion. But it would have been so much easier to handle if they'd been at Hotch's apartment instead of the middle of a tree farm. And Hotch was in absolutely no condition to do pretty much anything right now.

Unwittingly, Jack had dredged up all of the pain and guilt Emily knew he'd been feeling less and less of. As Jack adjusted to not having his mother, Hotch had slowly started to realize that maybe things would be okay, that Foyet couldn't haunt them anymore. Without thinking, without realizing it, Jack had pulled the guilt up again. So Emily made a split second decision.

"Aaron," she said quietly. "He'll be fine. Go take a walk."

"He's my son," he immediately argued.

This was going to come back to haunt her. Any of the pain and hurt she'd been feeling because of Hotch's inadvertent words were shoved into a box. She had other things to focus on, more important things, most specifically, these two boys. "Trust me," she said softly. _You're not in any condition to comfort your son when you're feeling the same pain_. "Jack will be fine." She adjusted said little boy against her hip. "Take a walk. Then we'll go home. Call me when you're ready."

Hotch was torn. He knew that she was right, that there was no way he was going to be able to help his son when there was enough emotion in him to explode. He wasn't sure whether he was angry, guilty or just plain upset at the entire situation. And he didn't even know what had set Jack off.

"Aaron, go," she urged. "It's okay. You're not abandoning him. It doesn't make you a bad father. You guys will have your time."

She'd made the decision for him, and he ran his hand over his son's head and kissed his hair. "I love you, Jack," he said, before squeezing her elbow and walking away.

Emily watched him walk away with a heavy sigh. How was she supposed to guard her heart when these boys were in so much pain? "Jack?"

"I want my mommy."

"I know you do, sweetheart," she said, rubbing his back as she looked around. Then she started back towards the entrance. "But Mommy can't come. She's with the angels, remember?"

"I don't want her to be with the angels, I want her to be here!" He started crying again in earnest.

Emily crooned wordlessly in his ear as she walked, keeping her eyes out for a spot to sit down. She couldn't comfort him properly standing up. Eventually, she found a log and took a seat. She sat Jack on her lap, cuddling him close until his sobs died down. Then she kissed his head and pulled him back, reaching into her pocket for a couple of Kleenex.

"Here, honey, blow your nose," she said quietly, then took another tissue and carefully blotted away his tears. She didn't want them to freeze on his face. "Sweetie, did Mommy say she'd go tree hunting with you?"

Jack nodded as he let her clean up his face. One of his fists was still grasping her jacket. "She said we were going to get the biggest tree ever," he said sadly. "Why is Mommy with the angels?"

Emily slammed her eyes closed. She wished Jack was having this conversation with his father and at the same time, knew that there was no way Hotch would be able to have this conversation without upsetting Jack. Jack hated seeing his father upset and Hotch got upset when Jack was upset. It was an unfortunate cycle.

"A bad man took her away, remember?" Emily answered softly.

"George?"

She nodded. "George took Mommy away."

"But Daddy made George go away. Couldn't George give Mommy back before he went away?"

"Oh, sweetie..." She hugged him close, but this time he didn't start crying. "Mommy can't come back sweetie."

"But I want her to come back so we can go tree hunting, just like she promised."

"You don't want to go tree hunting with Daddy?" Emily asked, trying to divert him, to remind him that even though his mother was gone, he still had a father who loved him with everything.

"But Mommy promised, Em'ly. And Mommy always told me not to break a promise," Jack protested. "And she never broked a promise to me 'afore."

Emily hugged him. "Honey, sometimes there are things that get in the way and promises get broken. That doesn't mean that the person didn't mean to break the promise, but sometimes it happens." She rubbed his back. "Your Mommy loved you with everything she had." Hell, the woman had given up her life for her son. "I know that if she could, she would have kept that promise to you."

They sat quietly for a few more minutes before Jack pulled back. "Where's Daddy?"

"He went for a walk, honey," Emily soothed.

"I want Daddy," he said.

Emily could understand that. It wasn't anything against her, but she'd basically just told him that he was never going to see one of his parents again. She sighed as she pulled out her phone. "Daddy went for a walk. Do you want to call him?"

Jack nodded vigorously, his little head bobbing.

So Emily dialled Hotch's number and held the phone out to the little boy.

He waited for a few minutes, then said. "Daddy, can you come back now?"

She had no idea what Hotch said in reply, just rubbed Jack's back as she watched him closely. Eventually, he held the phone back out to her.

"Daddy says we're 'posed to meet him at the car," he said solemnly.

Emily smiled. "Then let's go to the car."

Hotch was already there when they arrived, standing, leaning against the car, his arms folded. He was still guarding himself. Emily set the five year old down, and with only one tumble to the snow, Jack raced towards his father. Hotch lifted him into his arms and hugged him close, kissing his temple. Then he turned, buckling his son into his car seat. Emily smiled slightly as she stepped up just as Hotch closed the door.

"Are you okay to drive?" she asked quietly. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, it was more that if he wanted time to focus and think, driving wasn't the thing to do. He held out the keys for her and she caught sight of his hand. She gasped, her maternal instinct already in the forefront because of Jack. "What did you do?"

He looked away from her. "Hit a tree," he admitted.

She hissed. "This needs to be checked out."

"I have a first aid kit at home," he said quietly, looking back into the car at his son. "I'll fix it at home."

Emily bit her lip, but allowed him that. Jack needed to go home, not to a hospital. "Okay," she finally gave in. She sighed as she walked around the car. This was not how she'd intended the day to turn out.

* * *

Emily sat on the edge of the bathtub, Hotch hand in her lap as she tried to pull the splinters out of his hand. Jack was in the living room, watching home videos of him and his mother. She had been adamant that they fix his hand before anything else so it didn't get infected. She hadn't asked anymore questions, just pulled out tweezers and started pulling the slivers out of his hand.

"He's supposed to be gone."

Hotch hadn't looked at her since she started pulling the wood from his hand, and she hadn't tried to catch his eyes. She didn't look at him now either, just continued to methodically pull the splinters out of his hand. She didn't need him to clarify what he was talking about. She moved on to the disinfectant, telling him softly that it was going to sting. He still hissed. She cleaned his scrapes and cuts, binding them up in gauze he kept in the kit. Emily found herself wondering if the reason was because it was leftover from his stab wounds.

Finally, when he was all bandaged up, she let out a heavy sigh and kept a hold of his hand. "Aaron, listen to me. Carefully."

He finally met her eyes.

"You are not responsible for what happened to Haley. You made the best decisions you could." They'd had this conversation before and she was sure he'd started to believe it. This had completely undone all of the hard work they'd both done. "Haley understood that nothing about what happened to her was your fault. She knew that it was Foyet. She knew that you had done everything you could to make sure she and your son were safe. You need to let go of this guilt and remember that there is no one that blames you for what happened." She found herself reaching out, cupping his cheek in her hand.

"Even Jack understands that it was Foyet who took Haley away," her voice was just above a whisper, so quiet that it barely echoed off the bathroom walls. Silence fell around them for a few moments, neither of them moving.

Eventually, he grasped her hand, pulling it into his hand and stroking the skin of her wrist. "Thank you," he finally said softly. "Today... we would have been a mess if you hadn't been there."

Her smile was still tight. "You don't have to thank me."

Jack poked his head into the bathroom before Hotch could reply. "Daddy, Em'ly, will you come watch Mommy with me?"

Emily tried not to show how hard she knew this was going to be. But they needed her, that much was obvious. So she managed a smile. "How about you take your daddy and I'll come out in a minute," she suggested.

She took the few minutes in the bathroom to reorient herself, to focus herself. She hung her head as she clasped the edge of the sink. How was she supposed to protect her heart when he kept being so vulnerable? And it wasn't like she would ever be able to say no to Jack. She bit her lip as she looked up at herself in the mirror.

She was totally screwed.

* * *

_One, I'm so sorry this was so late! I battled with it for HOURS to make it come together and I'm still not sure I like it. The scene was all planned out in my head and then the next thing I know, when I sit down to type it out, it's all gone! _

_Now, before I get angry reviews about how Hotch did just walk away (and assuming I didn't get my point across within the writing) it cannot be easy to leave your crying child. And I'm sure that there are those of you out there who are going to say to me 'Hotch would never have left Jack alone'. Which is why it was Emily who said he needed to go walk it off. Neither of them were going to be a help to the other while they were both upset and Hotch had just had everything he'd managed to at least set aside come to the forefront. I needed it to happen that way for everything to work out. _

_And I know that there's probably a whole handful of you going 'Emily's a glutton for punishment'. She totally is, but then again, she's in love with Hotch and she can't say 'no' to Jack. She was there for Jack, and the next thing she knows, everything's falling apart. He hasn't apologized, not really, but he inadvertently will in the next chapter. _

_I hope everything makes sense. There are things in here that I needed to have happen (like Hotch walking off and punching a tree), even though it may go right against everything Hotch and Em are. _

_So even more than before, I'd really appreciate the feedback on this one. _

_And GAH! Writing Jack crying KILLS me!_


	19. December 19: Home for Christmas

December 19

Hotch looked down at Jack as he took the tape from his son's outstretched fingers. The boys were wrapping presents, some JJ had dropped off – and he'd thanked her with everything in him when she had – and the most important one that had been delivered to his home. It had taken a lot of favours to get Emily's gift, a lot of work on Dave's part, and Hotch would never be able to express how thankful he was. "What do you want for Christmas, Jack?"

Emily had been bothering him about what she was supposed to put under the tree for his son and honestly, Hotch wasn't sure.

After their tree debacle the previous day, Hotch had been absolutely floored when Dave had dropped by that morning and, with help from himself and Morgan whom Hotch learned Dave had drafted into helping, they moved in an evergreen tree. Jack had almost jumped through the roof when he saw it, a distinct difference from yesterday.

Jack was silent as he watched his father finish wrapping the present and move onto the next one. "I want you to be happy, Daddy."

Hotch blinked, stopping and turning to Jack. "You want what?"

"I want you to be happy," Jack said again. "You're always sad, Daddy. 'Cept when Em'ly's here. You're happy when Em'ly's here. I'm happy when she's here too. Can she come for Christmas, Daddy? I want you to be happy on Christmas."

Hotch didn't know what to say. "Is that the only thing you want for Christmas?"

Jack nodded. "I don't need presents, Daddy, because I have you, but you're always sad."

"I'm not always sad," Hotch said quietly, lifting Jack into his arms and hugging him. "I have you. You make me happy."

"But not happiest," Jack contradicted. "Daddy's you're squeezing me." Then Jack froze. "Daddy, Daddy don't squeeze me. I don't like being squeezed."

"I'm sorry, Buddy," Hotch said, pulling away at the frantic tone of his son's voice. Sure enough, there were tears in Jack's eyes. "Buddy, what's wrong?"

And Jack burst into tears. Hotch lifted him into his arms and carried him to the couch, sitting down with his son in his lap and kissing his head. "Shhh, it's okay. Everything's okay."

Jack's hand was white-knuckled in his father's shirt. Eventually, his sobs calmed and Hotch pulled back, looking down at Jack's red, puffy eyes. "What was that about, Jack?" He wanted to know what he'd done, because it was definitely something he'd done.

Jack sniffled. "Mommy hugged me that tight. Just before I went to work the case with you. She hugged me that tight and she didn't come back."

And Hotch understood, pulling his son gently to his chest. "I'm not going anywhere Jack. Ever. I will always be here."

"Do you promise, Daddy?"

"I promise, Jack."

* * *

Emily had just finished wrapping Dave's gift and was about to move onto Garcia's when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hey."

She recognized his tone of voice immediately. "What happened? What's wrong? Are you okay? Is Jack okay?"

On the other end of the phone, Hotch felt his lips twitch upwards. "Down, Em. We're all okay."

She relaxed, plopping down in a chair. "You scared me." Then she paused. "What happened?"

He sighed. "Jack freaked out."

"What kind of freaked out?"

"I, um... I hugged him too tight."

Emily flashed on the phone call, on Jack telling his father his mother was hugging him too tight. "He remembered?"

"I guess so. He said Haley hugged him that tightly before she went away."

Emily's heart clenched for the little boy. And for his father. It couldn't be easy for Hotch to hear Jack say things like that. Not easy at all. "Is... is he okay?"

"He is now," Hotch nodded. "I think... I think I scared him."

"It's going to happen," she reassured him. "You're both still dealing with everything, Aaron. You can't expect to be or feel better over night. And Jack won't be or feel better over night either. You're not a bad father because you hugged him."

There was a pause, then, "Jack says the only thing he wants for Christmas is for you to be with us," Hotch said quietly. "He says I'm happier when you're around."

Emily felt tears well in her eyes. "He said that."

"He did," Hotch agreed, chewing his lip for a moment. Then he said, "He's right, you know?"

"Jack? About what?"

"I am happier when you're around. You make... you make it all easier."

Emily couldn't make her sniffle quiet this time. This was the second thing he'd said that made her re-think her worries to Penelope and JJ just days ago. Finally, she said, "There's no where else I'd rather be. There's no two people in the world I would like to spend Christmas with more than you guys."

On the other end of the phone, Hotch felt himself smiling. Maybe Jack really was right and that Emily just made him happier. With a soft goodbye he hung up the phone and went to place the presents under the tree.

* * *

_I know, super short in comparison, but this was all I wanted to do with this chapter. There's a lot more left, much to my own surprise, and really, it had to be established that Emily was going to be there on Christmas. Elsewise, my world would stop rotating and my computer would stop working and then you guys would be without updates! How much would that stink._

_I discovered this morning that the annual site-doesn't-want-to-send-alerts is on, so I'm not getting any review alerts in my inbox. Which is fine, since now I know and I'll just pop onto the site to see them, but I may be less likely to reply. I do want to thank everyone who has reviewed though, especially those of you who are dropping ideas. And for each and every one of you who dropped me a line... you guys got me my own story! As in rawpotato is writing me a story because I surpassed 425 reviews!_

_You guys rock my socks._

_Thanks, from the bottom of my heart!_


	20. December 20: Tears

December 20

Emily bolted upright at the scream that reverberated through the small apartment. She groaned, and held a hand to her head as it started to pound. She'd gone to bed early at Hotch's insistence after taking Jack shopping. Between them, they'd managed to find the last gift they both needed: Hotch's. She'd been battling headaches all day as well as a low appetite and a few achey muscles. By the time she got a hold of herself enough to move, Hotch was already gone. Of course, he'd probably raced out of the room before she'd even fully woken.

Emily sighed as she cuddled back in the blankets, facing the door. She'd actually felt Hotch climb in beside her and had stiffened at first. She still was not sure, by any stretch of the imagination, where they stood. His words on the phone the night before had gone a long way in reassuring her that he had loved Haley and probably still did, but that didn't mean he didn't or couldn't love her. Those had been JJ's words a few days prior and Emily was starting to feel like she was seeing it too.

She hadn't realized she'd fallen back to sleep until she was being shaken awake gently. She opened a bleary eye to Hotch's distressed face. "What's wrong?"

"Jack had a nightmare and I can't... He won't... He's crying."

Emily moved as quickly as she could and Hotch reached out a hand to steady her. She knew that it must have been dire for him to actually ask her for help. Usually, Jack was quite content to have his father there In fact, it was extremely rare that Emily alone could calm him down.

Jack was curled up in a ball, his whole body shaking. With her own shaking hand, Emily reached out for the little boy. "Jack, sweetheart?"

Jack curled in on himself tighter. Emily sighed, unsure of what to do. She knew Hotch was still standing in the doorway, knew he was watching, and she knew what she wanted to do. The last thing either of the Hotchner boys needed, however, was for her to step in and seem like a parent. That was Hotch's job now, not hers and she knew that they were both still raw and weak from the upheaval of the last couple of days. Finally, she rolled her eyes at herself, and climbed up onto the bed with him, shifting Jack's little body until it was across her lap. Then she hunkered down, wrapping herself around his tiny body.

When his sobs died down, Emily continued to stroke his back. His hand had fisted in her shirt, his knuckles white. It was another twenty minutes before Jack had calmed down enough for his breathing to be back to normal.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Emily asked quietly against his hair.

Jack nodded vigorously against her shirt.

"Do you want to come sleep with me and Daddy?"

"I want Mommy."

"I know, honey," she said as she watched Hotch leave. "I know."

* * *

Hotch had been watching the clock since he'd walked away from the doorway and it was another two hours before Emily returned to his bedroom looking much worse for wear. In fact, she looked exhausted and pale. He hadn't wanted to wake her, not knowing that she'd been battling headaches all day, but he'd been at the end of his rope. He couldn't stand to hear his son sob so violently anymore He'd been concerned that Jack would make himself sick.

Eventually, he felt her slide back into what had become her side of the bed. He had to admit, he was more comfortable with her there. He felt better when she was around, and that included within reaching distance when he slept. Emily had proven time and time again that when he was going over that precipice, she had the uncanny ability to bring him back again. He didn't move, didn't say anything, just lay there until her hand came out to rest on his upper arm.

"This doesn't make you a bad father," she told him softly.

He almost swore, but kept his mouth shut.

"Every kid has those moments where they want one parent and not the other. That doesn't mean he doesn't love you, that doesn't mean he doesn't want you around, and most importantly, that doesn't mean that he blames you for anything that happened. All it says is that he misses his mom. He's actually starting to deal with things, Aaron. He's starting to realize that his mother really isn't going to be coming back and he's reacting to it the same way we would if we were in his situation."

It was a 'did', not a 'would' in Hotch's place. Though, the last time he'd shed a tear for the woman he'd once loved with every part of his being had been while holding her dead body. He'd been strong for Jack through the rest of it because his son needed him.

"Sometimes crying is the only way to deal with emotion. Just be glad he's expressing it and not bottling up. You know that the latter is more dangerous than the former."

He knew Emily didn't mean that as a reprimand towards him. He bottled his emotions up because he wanted to be strong, and she seemed to intrinsically understand where he was coming from. At the same time, he also knew she was right. In fact, he knew from intimate experience just how right she was. Bottling up emotions made you explode later.

And that was his last thought before rolling over and pulling her towards him, his only tangible link to the world he'd once lived in, a world that was light and happy, rather than filled with the grief of losing Haley.

Emily simply ran her hands through his hair, her eyes falling closed even as she kept her fingers moving. Hotch realized then that though Haley was gone, it wasn't just Jack that Haley had wanted to learn about love again. On the contrary, for him to teach his son how to love, he was going to have to remember how to do it too.

This was a train of thought he hadn't explored before. He knew Haley's death was still too close to the surface for him to actually delve into a deep committed relationship, but that certainly didn't mean he couldn't start laying the foundation. And the way he'd watched Emily with his son, the way she'd cuddled him, held him, shushed him, left him with one choice.

"You're going to have to let go of this, Aaron," Emily whispered, breaking into his train of thought. "You're going to have to let the blame go. Haley understood what she was doing. She didn't blame you." He heard her swallow thickly. "I didn't know Haley, but I know this: she had unwavering faith in you. Through everything, up to and including Foyet, Haley had faith in you. If she could believe in you, if I can believe in you, if that little boy can believe in you, you have to start believing in yourself."

And that bottle of emotions he'd kept inside boiled over, and Hotch found himself crying, sobbing into Emily's shoulder the same way Jack had only hours before. She'd become his comfort, his solace, one of the two most important things that got him up in the morning. He hoped that maybe someday, he'd be able to repay even the tiniest bit of that kind of strength. Maybe this dark cloud of grief and misery had a silver lining after all.

For now though, he allowed himself to cry over the woman he'd lost, over the things he and his son had yet to go through.

* * *

_So, my mother wanted to go to church this morning and I was so focused on posting this before we left that I didn't leave you any author's notes or anything! Which is so many forms of unlike me. I usually have a novel to write, and I had a whole bunch of stuff I wanted to say, and now I forget most of it. Can somebody find where I left my brain please? It seems to have flown the coop, the little pain in my rear. Of course, there's the distinct possibility it's just off having an affair with my sanity and I'll never see them again. _

_I have a good story for you all. It goes like this: next chapter is a Hotch-Em role reversal. Who wants to see a worried Hotch about Emily's health safety and well-being? Everybody? Excellent, because that's what you're getting. I'm glad we had that talk._

_And for all of you who keep asking, there will be a kiss by the time you finish reading all 25 chapters. I promise you that. And it won't happen under mistletoe. _


	21. December 21: His Turn

December 21

"Oof!"

Hotch took a moment to decipher what had startled him awake so violently and so painfully. Then, he heard retching in the bathroom. Apparently forgiven for whatever hurt he'd caused – though he wasn't sure he was quite over it – Emily had stayed again, even after the tears and nightmares of the previous night. He found he liked having her in his space, having her around. He'd gotten used to it.

But what was going on?

"Emily?"

She didn't reply, so Hotch threw off the covers and made his way to the bathroom. Emily was leaning against the tub, her eyes closed. He could see her hand trembling, her whole body shaking only slightly.

"Em?"

He was on his knees in front of her in an instant, reaching out for her.

Her eyes flew open as his fingers made gentle contact with the skin of her arm and she groaned. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

Hotch managed to chuckle slightly through his worry. "An elbow in the gut is bound to wake any one up, Emily. Are you okay?"

She had managed to flush the toilet, but she looked pale and weak. "In a minute."

He reached into the bathtub, withdrawing the cloth that was there. Her skin had been burning to the touch, so he wet the cloth and put it against her forehead. She moaned.

"Cold."

"I know it is," he replied, "but you're burning up." His concern was growing exponentially as he sat there with her. "Do you hurt?"

She nodded.

Damnit! He should have seen this coming. She'd been up with him and with Jack... even a couple of full nights asleep at home wouldn't cure her at the drop of a hat. Her immune system had probably been crap for a while and she'd been out shopping in large throngs of people the previous day. He ran his hand over her head. "I'm going to get a thermometer, okay?"

Emily sighed as she leaned back against the bathtub. She'd been able to hide how bad she'd been feeling throughout the day behind painkillers and the fact that the only thing her boys had wanted to do was hang around the house. The only time they'd left was to stop by the video store. Jack had picked out a million and one Christmas movies and they'd spend the day on the couch, lounging about. She hadn't been surprised with the emotional upheaval of the previous night, and, if she was honest, it had been a nice, relaxing day.

Now, however, she didn't seem to be lucky enough to hide it She was freezing, weak, tired and achy.

Hotch returned with the thermometer, settling himself right beside her as he held the small instrument out. Emily too it and slid it under her tongue before allowing her head to drop to his shoulder.

"How long have you been feeling sick?" he asked quietly. Actually, he probably knew the answer to that. It was obvious to him that the headache had been the first clue that something was wrong, and she'd been rather pale for the last few days.

Finally, the thermometer beeped and Hotch reached up to take the small device from her mouth. High, definitely a fever, but not high enough to warrant a trip to the hospital. He stroked her hair, searching his brain for how to lower a fever and the things his mother had done for him as a child, not to mention taking care of Jack when he was ill. It came to him and he turned his head.

"Em, we have to get your fever down," he said into the soft, dark locks. "And I know you're cold, but I'm going to run you a cold bath and then we'll get you to take some Advil, okay?"

She groaned.

"I know, sweetheart," he said, the endearment slipping out without his knowledge, "but it's either this or the hospital."

Emily wrinkled her nose in distaste. She absolutely detested hospitals. Why couldn't she just stay curled up against his warm, soft side?

"It'll make you feel better," he cajoled, his fingers still running through her hair. He turned carefully, twisting the bathtub tap to start the water running and making it much cooler than normal. They sat there while the water ran, then he kissed the side of her head. "Come on, Em. I promise, as soon as you do this, you can go to sleep, okay?" He helped her up, then stood there for a minute debating with himself.

"I'll do it," she said after a moment, realizing he didn't know how to get her into the tub and maintain her privacy. She knew he was right, that this would be good for her, but the thought of more cold was almost painful.

"I'll leave clothes outside the door," he promised softly. "If you're not out in twenty minutes I'm going to start to worry." Actually, he was already worried, but it was comforting that she was willing to do part of it herself. So he left her to the bath, heading for his dresser. He had to dig, but eventually, he found a well-worn t-shirt and pulled it out, then grabbed her go-bag, leaving both just outside the bathroom. He chewed his cheek a moment before heading for the living room.

The role reversal was not lost on him. In some ways, it felt good to be able to take care of her for a change. She'd done so much to take care of him and Jack in the last three weeks, that it was kind of fitting that he get to watch over her while she was sick. And it wasn't out of obligation or repayment, he knew that. What he was doing for Emily now was the same thing he would be doing if he hadn't been grieving.

It wasn't more than ten minutes before she was leaning on the wall, eyes drooping and shivering, but dressed in his t-shirt. He moved swiftly to her side.

"I stayed in there as long as I could stand," she said softly, leaning against him as he wrapped an arm around her.

Hotch's hand came up to brush across her forehead. Her skin did feel a little cooler than it had before her bath, but it had, at last, dropped a little. "That's good," he praised. "You've a little bit cooler. We'll get you some Advil and some sleep, okay?"

Emily nodded her head against his shoulder. She rarely did feel like utter crap. But she should have known that with all of the emotion and the lack of sleep it would creep up on her She squeaked as his arm swept beneath her and he carried her towards his bedroom. Once he had settled her in the bed, he headed to the bathroom and returned with a glass of water and two little pills. Once she downed the pills and he'd crawled into bed, he pulled her against him and arranged her aching limbs against his body before dropping a kiss to her forehead. "Try and get some sleep."

She was already there by the time he finished the sentence.

* * *

Hotch blinked his eyes open at the incessant tapping on his cheek.

"Daddy, Em'ly's not feeling good."

It took a moment for the words to register and another for his brain to compute that his bedmate was, indeed, missing. He threw the covers off and made his way to the bathroom quickly, Jack hot on his heels. Sure enough, Emily was leaned against the bathtub, her head resting on her knees.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you wake me up," he asked softly, dropping to his knees and reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear

"It's my fault, Daddy," Jack piped up, worry loud in his voice. "I didn't want to watch cartoons by myself and Em'ly wasn't sleeping like you."

"I figured the living room wasn't that far and I thought I was feeling okay enough to get there," Emily croaked, her throat still raw from vomiting. The eyes she turned up at him were teary and frustrated. She had never been good at showing weakness.

He reached out involuntarily, his fingers brushing against her still too-warm cheek. "You're sick, Em."

"Em'ly, you're sick?" Jack asked in a small voice.

"She is," Hotch answered before Emily could, wrapping an arm around her back and helping her to stand.

"Oh," Jack said, then he scampered away as Hotch helped Emily to the bed.

"Hotch, no," she protested. "I can't stay in here all day."

"The couch is not conducive to sleep, Emily. You're going to stay here and get some sleep."

"I'll be fine on the couch," she argued, just as Jack came scampering back in with a stuffed animal under each arm and a couple of books in his hands. He pulled himself up on the bed and crawled to the middle as Hotch tucked Emily in again.

"You can't be on'a couch, Em'ly, you gotta be in bed! That's the only way you're going to get better," Jack scolded seriously. Then he held out a stegosaurus. "This is George. He always makes me feel better when I'm sick."

Emily smiled softly as she took the stuffed animal and tucked it under her arm. "Thank you, honey."

Jack settled himself very carefully against her side. "Em'ly and I are okay, Daddy. You can go back to sleep now."

Hotch smiled affectionately at his son as he climbed back into bed with both of them. He wrapped an arm around his son so that it grazed Emily's side. "Well you brought some books, so how about you read me and Emily a bedtime story?"

"Dat's a good idea, Daddy!" Jack said his eyes glowing. "Em'ly," he began turning to her. "It's my turn to read you a story."

Her eyes were already falling shut as she smiled softly. "Okay, sweetie. You read me a story."

* * *

Later that afternoon, Hotch sighed as he took in his cupboards. Emily hadn't been able to keep literally anything down. He'd given her crackers, toast, things that were light, but her stomach had rejected them every time. Unfortunately for him, he had no soup, which he'd always heard was the best. It was also the one thing they hadn't tried yet. More than that, though Emily had been drinking most of the day – mostly because Hotch had told Jack it was good for her and Jack had made sure she drank a lot – she had no nutrients running through her system.

Which meant he was going to have to go out and pick up a couple of things.

He looked over to the pair of them on the couch. They'd moved there at Emily's insistence that she couldn't stay lying down anymore. So she and Jack were watching something while he set about finding something else for her to eat. He sighed as he made his way around the couch. Both Jack and Emily looked up at him, Jack sitting on the floor and Emily's fingers absently running through his hair as she rested on the couch.

"I'm going to have to go to the store," he admitted softly. "Are you two going to be okay by yourself?"

Emily smiled, her fever had gone down substantially since she'd woken and though she'd still been throwing everything up, she felt a little bit more functional now that the headache was gone. It had dulled down substantially as the aches had slowly petered out. She'd diagnosed herself with what was probably the twenty-four hour flu not three hours ago. "We'll be fine," she promised. "Won't we Jack?"

Jack nodded solemnly. "I promise to take good care of Em'ly while you're gone, Daddy. Just like she takes good care of me."

Hotch watched Emily's smile soften even more and was hit with something he hadn't reflected on: Emily Prentiss really did love his little boy. Which was excellent considering he was barely sure he could teach his son to do something tangible, let alone teach him about love. He turned back to the door, knowing he was leaving Emily in very, very safe hands.

* * *

Hotch's fingers were running through Emily's hair again as they lay together in his bed. It was dark, night, and Jack had already gone to bed, but it seemed as if neither of them were going to be quite as lucky as the little tyke in the sleeping department. Emily had slept on and off all day and really, was no longer tired. She felt much better, hadn't had to vomit for most of the afternoon and had been able to keep both toast and soup down at dinner.

She tilted her head. "Thank you," she whispered quietly, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

There was a wrinkle in his brow as he looked down at her. "For what?"

"For taking care of me today. Jack is in very good hands." She'd been in very good hands and it had managed to almost convince her that, with time, they could have something too. JJ had been right, at the very least, Hotch cared deeply for her, and since he was still grieving, for now, that was enough.

"You don't have to thank me," he replied, kissing her forehead. "You would have done the same for me."

She would jump through any hoop he put in front of her at this particular moment, and any hoop his son presented her with as well. Emily's lips curved up in a smile.

Hotch looked down at her with a touch of satisfaction in his eyes. It had meant a lot for her to say that he had taken good care of her, though she'd been an easy patient to please There wasn't much he'd had to do but heat up some soup and ensure she kept fully hydrated. He'd _enjoyed_ taking care of her, being close to her, and even sick she'd brought him comfort by just being in the apartment.

"I should be thanking you," he said against her hair.

"Oh?"

"Being here for us, helping Jack and I..." He took a deep breath. "I don't think I would have been able to make it through these last weeks without you," he admitted. "You've been a rock, Em, for me and for Jack and that's something that I will never stop thanking you for."

She liked being able to take care of him and felt herself redden at his thanks. "It hasn't been easy for you," she said after a moment. "I'm merely here trying to make it easier."

"You're doing that," he promised her. "You're doing that, and more."

The warmth in his voice made her stomach flutter, and she curled even tighter against him. They stayed like that for a while, his hand still stroking through her hair. He'd been doing that a lot lately and it made Emily feel like purring. Eventually, he did drop off to sleep, the even rise and fall of his chest her first clue. She tilted her head to look up at his face, much more relaxed in sleep, without the little wrinkle between his eyebrows that spoke of his almost constant hardship. She made herself comfortable against the steady beat of his heart.

"I love you," she whispered against his t-shirt as she let her eyes drift closed.

* * *

_So there we go, a few moments through Emily's terribly sick day. But that's okay! She'll be feeling much better tomorrow! And you even get an 'I love you', even if it's just to a very much dead asleep Hotch.  
_

_And we're going to have Hotch and Jack have a little talk tomorrow, about Hotch going back to work and inadvertently about Emily's role in their lives._

_And you get this super early because I'm going shopping with my sister today! We're Christmas shopping until goodness knows when. I even got up early to finish this because I knew the next time I would be on my computer was going to be like, five or six. _

_Okay, I have a few admin things to say too, mostly about the forum, but about this story too._

_So, I've had the constant request over the last couple of days to extend this baby to New Years. I am willing to do that, on one condition: I have five days that I have to fill, and absolutely no idea as to what to fill them with. Harleyzgirl has given me a few ideas, but I'm also looking to you guys to see if there's something you think should happen once they realize that maybe a relationship really is possible in the future. And even if you want this to continue past December 25. So, when you write your review, let me know._

_Second, sienna27 and I are doing some re-vamping of our forum. If you're someone who has been writing there, keep an eye out for the changes we're going to make. We're going to open it up to all het pairings, and sienna's in the process of starting up a second C2 community for all of the pairings that are not Hotch & Em, or JJ & Rossi. We're also going to change the "rules" a little bit, and give you guys a formula and posting instructions for the links, since people have been having a hard time figuring out how to post links. We should be doing that over the next couple of days, so keep your eyes peeled for those changes.  
_

_Okay! I'm done now! Don't forget to review._


	22. December 22: Love and Smiles

December 22

"Daddy, what are you doing?"

Hotch looked up to find Jack in the door to the hallway, blinking at him, one hand coming up to sleepily rub at his eyes. "I'm looking at pictures," he answered. "Why are you up?" He was moving before he'd finished asking the question, leaving the photo album on the table and coming to lift Jack into his arms.

"I can't sleep," Jack answered.

That was a surprise. They'd had a busy day, just the two of them. There had been no Emily, she'd had to go into the office, and though he missed her, he did enjoy the time with his son. They'd started by actually decorating the tree, just the two of them, and it had been quiet and a little bittersweet. The last time Hotch remembered actually decorating a tree was when he was with Haley. The last time Jack had decorated a tree, it had been with his mother.

Then, they'd gone skating. Jack had insisted and Hotch knew they needed to get out of the apartment. Neither of them could mope around the place, it wasn't healthy. So they'd gone skating, and they'd even stopped at the park to throw a few snowballs and build a snowman. But when they'd gotten home, things had changed and they'd both been subdued, quiet. He'd figured Jack was just tired, but he knew that for him, it was just overwhelming. He and Jack had had a lot of fun, but for him, he still felt like there was something missing.

Emily seemed to have picked up on it and she'd taken charge of bath and bed time for Jack, then turned in herself. Hotch had been left to do whatever he wanted to do, to focus on whatever he needed to do to center himself again.

Hotch had pulled out the videos.

They were a mixture of home videos from before their divorce and movies that had been taken while she was in protective custody. Then, when he hadn't been able to listen to her voice anymore, he'd moved onto their wedding pictures, dating pictures, the albums that he'd taken from the house. He hadn't taken much, just the things that were too sentimental to let go of.

Now, Hotch carried little Jack back to the couch with him, settling the five-year-old in his lap.

Jack settled his head on his father's shoulder. "I wish Mommy didn't have to go away."

Hotch sighed, kissing his son's head. "I wish she didn't have to go away either, Buddy. I wish I could bring her back."

He picked up the photo album again. Spreading it across their laps.

"What's this, Daddy?"

"This is when I got married to your Mommy," Hotch replied, going back to the beginning of the album. "See? There's your Aunt Jessica, and Uncle Sean."

They went through the album together, cover to cover, Hotch telling his son all of the stories he could remember from that day long ago.

"Daddy, why don't you smile like that anymore?"

"Because I've grown up since then," Hotch replied slowly. "It's harder to make me smile." He set the photo album aside. "But you make me smile."

"Like that, Daddy?" Jack asked, pointing to the album beside him.

"Sometimes," Hotch replied. "You know I work with bad people. Sometimes it's hard to smile when I see bad people so often."

"But Daddy, you have to go catch the bad people," Jack said. "If you don't catch them, who will?"

"I have a whole team of people who help me fight the bad guys," Hotch answered.

"With Miss Jareau and Mister Dave?"

"Yeah, Jack."

Jack nodded slowly for a moment. "Does Em'ly hunt the bad guys too?"

"She does," Hotch agreed, curious as to where this was going.

"Then, Daddy, you have to go back to catch the bad guys with her. 'Cause I like Em'ly and you took good care of her yesterday. Catching bad people is dangerous. You gotta catch the bad guys with Em'ly so you can take care of her."

Hotch chuckled. "I promise you, Jack, Emily is more than capable of catching the bad guys without me."

He turned his little head up with a wide smile. "She makes you smile."

That was true, Emily had made him smile when he was sure he wouldn't anymore, and she'd done that long before Haley had died. "She does," he admitted.

There was a pause, and then. "Daddy?"

"Yes Buddy?"

"Do you love Emily?"

Hotch blinked owlishly at his son. Did he _what_? Jack had looked back down at his hands and Hotch rubbed his son's back as he thought about it. "I don't know, Buddy."

"How come?"

Hotch smiled. "Because things aren't always black and white. You don't either love someone or not." He thought for a moment. "I like Emily," he finally said softly. "And I care about her a lot."

There was another pause, then, "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

Jack was chewing his lip. "Do you think Mommy would be upset if I loved Em'ly?"

Hotch was totally and completely floored by the question. He wasn't sure what to say. Well, he was exactly sure what to say. "No, Buddy. Your mom would be happy to know you love Emily."

Jack nodded. "I don't want to forget Mommy, but Em'ly's special. She helps a lot, Daddy."

"I know she does," Hotch agreed, shifting his son on his lap.

"I like that she's around a lot," Jack admitted.

Of course, Hotch already knew that. Jack had already told him that he liked Emily partially because she made him smile, made him happy. It was that moment that had made him think, made him reflect on Emily's role in his life. She'd been in it long before Haley had died and she'd been an integral part of it long before Haley died as well. Now, it seemed like she'd only become a more and more important. He was at the point where he didn't know what he would do without her. If he ever lost her, if she ever removed herself from their loves... he wasn't sure what he would do.

"Daddy?"

He would never get tired of hearing that. Not now, not ever. "What is it, Jack?"

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Hotch smiled slightly as he lifted his son into his arms. "Of course, Buddy."

Jack cuddled down against Emily the minute he was on the bed and Hotch climbed in beside them. Hotch felt Emily wrap her arms around the little boy, her hand twining with his on the mattress.

"Everybody's okay now?" she asked, voice husky with sleep.

His hand ran over her arm and over Jack's head. "Everybody's fine."

Emily kissed Jack's head and squeezed his hand. "Good."

Hotch felt something warm spread through him as he watched Jack cuddle against Emily's chest. He moved closer, cuddling up behind his son. The pain of losing Haley was still fresh, still hiding just under the surface, but for now, here, with them, the grief was held at bay for another night.

* * *

_I have literally nothing for tomorrow. Nothing. At least for a couple of chapters I've at least had a line or two to start... not this one. I literally have NOTHING. I have no idea how I feel about it._

_And there is good news. I will be continuing this. I won't be doing it as part of this story though, it'll be a sequel because I don't want to take away from the build up of this story. It'll make more sense at the end, I promise. _

_On that note, I have a skating scene planned for then. So skating is out for the next couple of days. So either I need someone to say something to spark my brain, or I'll go digging through some of my other stuff. The 24th is written though, so then it'll only be the 25th. I'm crossing my fingers that the 25th will actually be done on the 23rd since I don't have to write the 24th. We'll see...._

_Review please._


	23. December 23: To the Outside World

December 23

JJ smiled, bouncing Henry on her lap, as she watched Hotch and Emily. They were at one of Derek's many houses, a last minute Christmas celebration for the whole team. They were all full now, seated around a ragtag group of tables after a turkey dinner they'd all pitched in to make happen. Even last minute, they'd been able to pull it off.

This was what Christmas was about. Despite everything they'd been through, Jack and Hotch had been laughing and smiling all night long. JJ had been watching closely, worried about the man who was pretty much her big brother. She didn't want him to get overwhelmed, but it had seemed as if every time the melancholy started to flood him, Emily was there, with a touch, a look, a smile... And it had brought Hotch back from that brink.

She had been initially worried about the bond that was forming between them, that at the end of the day, both of them, or more likely Emily, was going to end up hurt. But then, watching them here, the ease with which they interacted, the ease with which Jack interacted with them made JJ feel much better. Even now, Emily sat on the floor with Jack, chatting with Derek as she did so.

It warmed JJ's heart to see how much of a family unit they seemed to be. Even when they'd come in, Hotch carrying the gifts and Emily carrying Jack, they seemed to be almost more in sync than they were on the job. And, more than that, it was nice to see them all relaxed. They spent so much time stressed on the job. With everything they'd dealt with, it was about time they had the chance to relax.

"Miss JJ?"

JJ had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't heard Jack approach. "What is it, Jack?"

Jack chewed his lip, looking over his shoulder at Emily who nodded. "Can I hold Henry?"

* * *

Reid blinked as he watched Hotch's arm rub down Emily's, catching her elbow. He wasn't a people person, he was an information person, but even he could tell that there was something between his colleagues. They weren't really trying to hide it, which probably meant that whatever it was, it wasn't official in any sense of the word, but the fact that Reid had noticed spoke to their comfort level and how obvious it was that there was more between them.

Honestly, Reid was glad. If anyone deserved happy things in their lives it was those two. Well, it was the whole team, but Hotch had been through so much and Emily had been good for him for a while now. He'd been so worried about Hotch as he closed in on himself after Foyet's initial attack, but he'd watched Emily step up time and time again, like the mother she was, and then more because while she was like a mother to him, her relationship with Hotch was completely different.

And, from the looks of it, completely healthy.

"Mister Reid?"

Jack.

He was the odd kid, who seemed to completely disregard the 'Reid Effect', but he was also a bright kid.

"Yes Jack?"

* * *

Penelope tried not to laugh as she watched Emily and Hotch at the dinner table. She and Derek had put together this little party, even if everyone had pitched in with something. It had been beautiful and she was really just glad that they were together.

But she was getting some serious entertainment out of watching one of her best friends and a man she respected immensely. Throughout the meal, Emily and Hotch had been constantly touching. As a general rule, that wasn't new, per se. Even Hotch had seemed to come out of his no-touching shell with Emily recently, but this was more constant. A brush of the leg, the touch of a hand as food passed from one to the other...

It made Penelope happy. Very happy. Because it was obvious that Hotch was happy so long as Emily was around. He seemed lighter, more upbeat, more optimistic. He was faster to laugh and to smile and Penelope had to admit, she liked this Hotch. Only a few weeks ago she'd seen a broken man, devastated by his inability to safe his ex-wife and his son's mother. The sadness, grief and guilt still lingered in his eyes, and she knew from experience, it always would. But to her, it certainly seemed like Hotch, though he knew Haley was gone, was willing to move on.

Even now, Hotch's arm was over the back of Emily's chair as Emily wiped chocolate icing off of Jack's cheek. She smiled to herself, leaning over to nudge Derek's shoulder. The smile he shot at her was wide and bright. Apparently she hadn't been the only one who had noticed. She sat back with a sigh of contentment. It seemed like her family would be okay after all.

* * *

"Hey kiddo," Dave said, resting her hand on Emily's shoulder. "Got a minute?"

She smiled. "Hey Dave."

"You guys looked good together tonight. Is there something you want to tell us?" Dave watched her entire demeanour shift, her shoulders slumping a little. He squeezed his shoulder, hoping she'd confide in him like she had in the past.

"I love him," she told Dave quietly, watching father and son as Jack jumped up and down impatiently, waiting for his father to open his new toy. "I do, but I'm not sure.... He loves Haley, Dave."

"Emily, he will _always_ love Haley. They shared years and a son and no one in the world will be able to change that. But Hotch was already moving on before Foyet, before Haley was killed, and he was doing it with you," he told her simply, quietly.

Emily's eyes widened. "We were friends, Dave, not-"

"Em, you and Hotch are the only ones who can't see how much you love each other," Dave interrupted.

Her eyes whipped up to his. "Dave, don't."

The elder man shook his head. "I wouldn't lie to you, not about this."

"He loves Haley."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Did you not hear anything I said? Of course he loves Haley, and part of that is his guilt that he was the one that killed her. She gave him a son, one of the only lights in his life. But you need to stop underestimating what you are to these boys, or, more importantly, what you are to Hotch."

"Dave... I can't believe..."

"Listen to me, Kid," Dave said, turning her to face him, holding her eyes relentlessly. "You need to stop and have faith in yourself. You need to have faith in him. Because some day, Haley will be a memory and are you going to be able to live with yourself if you let that go because of _fear_?"

"Fear is a good thing," Emily argued.

"Most of the time, yeah, I'll agree with that. This isn't one of those times. Em, you know that as well as I do."

"I don't," she hissed. "I _don't_ know that."

Dave shook his head. "Then you're letting one of the best things in your life go."

Dave walked away shaking his head and Emily closed her eyes. She looked up as Hotch put his hand on her shoulder, exactly where Dave had rested his hand. She jerked.

"Everything okay?" he asked quietly, his thumb rubbing circles on his collarbone.

Emily tried to give him a full smile, but she knew she wasn't that good. "Yeah."

He actually gave her a disbelieving look before leaning in to kiss her temple, pulling her against his body. "You don't look fine."

She paused before she answered, taking in the way he held her against his body, the way his hand stroked her arm. She was afraid, she was terrified. He had so much power over her and he didn't even know it. But Dave had made a point. Was she willing to let this man go because he was grieving for a woman he'd loved for more years than Emily could count?

Hotch wrapped his other arm around her as she turned to face him. His revelation the night before, about losing her, about learning to love himself, had made him want to keep her close at all times. They had been virtually inseparable all night and he'd found it remarkably easy. He felt his heart warm and his stomach flutter as her arm wrapped around his back heedless of the team around them.

"I'm fine, Aaron," she said with a more genuine smile.

He rubbed her arm, taking in her scent. "I'm glad. I don't know if I would have been able to take Dave."

She chuckled slightly her heart warming It made her feel better that he was willing to joke with her, with the whole team. It gave her more faith that he would be okay. It would take time, but he would be okay. "I don't think you have to worry about taking Dave on. Though I'm going on the record that I think you could take him."

His dimples came out then, softening his face like nothing else could. "You have always had faith in me"

"It's hard not to," she replied, tilting her head up. His eyes were dark, watching her with intensity.

"Daddy!"

They both smiled as Hotch's hand trailed down her arm, squeezing her hand before he went off to see what his son needed.

* * *

_I just realized that in most of these scenes Jack is the one to interrupt whatever is going on. _

_Now, I liked the idea of getting the opinion of the team, but I'm pretty sure this is the chapter I hate the most. Which is rather fitting considering the next chapter is the one I love the most. If you read Every Year it'll be deja vu for you, but I love it. And December 25th is already partially written down in my notebook._

_Please review!_


	24. December 24: The Memory Garden

_So once again guys, and kind of as a warning, if you read Every Year you're about to get a serious sense of deja vu. It's based on the same tradition that i-luv-to-write-law-and-order messaged me. Thanks for that dear! But I shall hold you back no longer!_

* * *

December 24

Hotch looked up at Emily as she rested her hand gently on his shoulder. She'd been quiet and subdued all day. It was odd. She'd been so excited every other day that he just assumed, besides tomorrow, today would be the best day. This morning, when he'd woken, instead of being greeted by a usual wide smile, one he'd gotten very used to seeing, she was curled against him, her hand clenched in the shirt he slept in. He couldn't say she was 'sad' per se, just subdued, and he was getting worried. Still, as she looked down at him, her eyes were soft.

"There's one more thing I have to do tonight. I was hoping you and Jack would come with me," she said quietly.

With the way she'd been all day, and the simplicity of her request, he wasn't about to turn her down. "Jack, grab your shoes and your coat."

Jack poked his head around the corner. "Are we going on a 'venture, Daddy?"

"Emily has something she wants to show us," Hotch explained with a smile at his son.

"Another tradition?" Jack asked as he came pattering into the living room.

"You're right," Emily answered with a gentle smile. "And this one's super special in really important, so I'm going to need your help."

Jack bobbed his little head in agreement before scampering to the door and pulling on his boots. "Come on, Daddy. You gotta put your shoes on."

Emily and Hotch followed Jack's example, then Emily lifted the five-year-old into her arms. She looked at Hotch. "We're going to have to stop by my apartment. I have to pick up a few things."

"You're the navigator and it's your tradition," he replied, resting his hand on the curve of her spine as he guided them out and locked up.

* * *

Hotch had no idea what Emily's tradition was, even after they'd stopped at her apartment. All she'd come out with was a little Ziploc of three small candles and a lighter, all of which she'd slid into her purse. But when he asked, she denied they were going to a church. Since they'd bypassed a number of them on their way out of the metro DC area, she'd been telling the truth. He was just about to ask if she was sure she knew where she was going when she spoke.

"It's the next left, Aaron," she said quietly. "It'll be a parking lot." She turned back to Jack. "We've got a bit of walking to do. Do you have your hat and mittens?"

Jack flapped his arms, showing her the mittens attached to strings in his coat. His had was in his lap. Emily smiled, pulling on her own mittens and following them with her earmuffs in preparation for the cold. Hotch had his own gloves and he pulled them on as he climbed out of the car before retrieving his son. Emily took Jack's other hand when they joined her at the back of the SUV and led the way down a path of evergreens covered in small white lights.

"Daddy," Jack said in awe, "look at all the Christmas trees!"

Emily laughed slightly and smiled at Jack.

Then, as they stepped into a clearing, it was Hotch's turn to gasp. Instead of lights, the entire clearing was lit by candles. "Emily..."

She lifted Jack into her arms before closing the distance between them until she could feel his heat against her arm. "This is probably my most important Christmas tradition," she said, her voice quiet.

"What is it?" Jack inquired, awe still in his voice.

"They call it the Memory Garden," Emily answered. "Every year, people come here and light candles for the loved ones that can't be with them for the holidays."

Jack's hand fisted in the lapel of Emily's coat. "Do you light a candle?"

Hotch was glad Jack had asked the question. He'd frozen. This had not been anticipated and he felt the annoyance and anger rise up in him. This was something she should have prepared him for, should have warned him about. He wasn't ready for this.

Emily was not surprised when Hotch turned on his heel and strode away. She'd hoped he would be open-minded about it, at least thing about honouring Haley's memory. He'd been doing so well over the last couple of days. More than that, she'd wanted to share this tradition with him. Out of everything she did during the holidays, this was the only thing that really mattered. Of course, she also understood that it was too hard for him and really, she couldn't begrudge him that. Last year had been difficult for her, the first year she'd lit two candles instead of one.

"Where did Daddy go?" Jack asked, craning his neck to try and find his father in the shadows.

"Daddy just needs a minute," Emily replied, swallowing the lump in her throat. She couldn't make him stay here with her. She couldn't make him remember his ex-wife. And she wouldn't. Then she moved, picking a cluster of branches. She set Jack down as she slid her purse off of her shoulder. "Stay close, okay honey?"

Jack grasped the bottom of her coat as she pulled the first candle out of the bag and removed one of the small candle holders off of a tree branch. The candles were suspended in ornaments around the clearing. She slid her candle inside and then lit it with the lighter. She and Jack both watched the candle catch fire.

"Who is that for, Em'ly?"

"This..." Emily began, unsure of how to explain it to him. The candle was for her baby, the baby she'd been forced to give up because of time and circumstances. "This is for a baby that died."

"What was his name?"

"The baby didn't have a name," she answered, holding the candle holder in both hands as she crouched to his level.

"Now what?"

"Now we say a verse."

"A verse?" Jack asked.

Emily smiled. "When I was younger, I had a friend who had a favourite part of the Bible." She'd adapted it since she and Matthew had parted ways and she'd lost a healthy chunk of her faith in the Catholic church, but it was still from the same passage. "It was the same friend who told me about this tradition."

"What do you say?"

She transferred the candle to one hand and wrapped the other around the little boy, pulling him into her side.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

"That's a lot of words Em'ly," Jack said quietly.

"It is," she agreed. "Until I memorized it, I had to write it down and read it out."

Jack grasped her coat as she moved to hang the candle on the tree. Then she took the next one out of the bag.

"Who is that one for?"

Emily crouched down to Jack's level again. "My friend Matthew. He died last year." Then she repeated the verse slowly as she and Jack watched the flame flicker, managing just barely to hold the tears at bay. Matthew had been special to her. Then she hung Matthew's candle.

"But Em'ly, what about the last one?"

"This one," she said, holding it out to him, "is for your mom, if you want."

"Can we say the verse too?"

"The tradition isn't the same if you don't say the verse," she replied with a smile as she helped Jack fit the candle into one of the holders.

"But I don't know it," he protested as Emily lit the candle.

"I'll teach it to you," she promised and began teh verse again, this time pausing for Jack to repeat her words. When they finished, Emily carefully lifted the little boy and his candle. "Okay, pick a branch honey," she whispered.

"That one," Jack said quietly and Emily helped him slide the ornament securely onto the branch.

Then Emily stepped back, adjusting Jack on her hip. "Do you want to say anything to your mommy?"

"But she's not here," Jack protested in confusion.

"That doesn't mean you can't talk to her," she replied, pressing her lips against Jack's temple. "Just pretend the candle is your mom."

"That's weird," Jack said.

"Then tell me. What would you like to say to Mommy?"

Jack was silent for a moment, just watching the candle. Then he rested his head on her shoulder, his forehead against her scarf. "That I miss her a lot," he finally said. "That Daddy is really sad. I don't like it when Daddy's sad."

"I don't either," Emily agreed, kissing his head.

"He's not so sad when you're there," Jack confided.

She swallowed thickly around the lump of emotion in her throat. "What else would you say to Mommy?"

"That she doesn't have to worry about me or Daddy," he replied lifting his head. "Because you take good care of us. So she doesn't have to worry."

Emily felt tears flood her vision. Jack was the sweetest child and so smart.

"And that I love her."

Emily sniffled, shifting Jack and wiping at her eyes. Then she kissed his head. "That was perfect, honey."

They stayed like that for a moment before Jack lifted his head. "Em'ly, can we go find Daddy now?"

"We'll find him," she agreed, heading out of the clearing.

---

Meanwhile, Hotch had watched the whole thing and while he hadn't heard a word they'd said, he still felt the feelings for his dark-haired colleague warm his heart, melting a little bit of his annoyance. Then, she'd left, carrying his son. So he approached the candles she'd hung with his son. It was different than sitting at her grave, but he found the words flowing anyway.

"Haley, I miss you. I miss you more and more every day. You did not deserve this. You should be here, celebrating Christmas with our son." He swallowed. "It's hard, not having you around. It's so hard, Haley, and if it wasn't for Emily, Jack and I would be lost. I would be lost.

"She's been a rock, the strongest person I know. She was there after you left and... I like her Haley, I care about her so much and she's so good for Jack... But I don't want to hurt her, I don't want her to leave. I can't give her anything, I can't risk losing her. I'm so scared. I'll only hurt her, and I know that. I hurt you. If I break her, I'll never forgive myself."

"Excuse me."

The soft voice startled him and when he turned to glare at the person, he actually blinked. It was a child, a girl, probably about ten, with dirty blond pigtails and a pink hat on her head. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to listen..." She chewed her lip. "My mommy died. Daddy says she was really sick, and he didn't think he'd ever be ready to love someone other than me." She tilted her head to the side. "But he did. And he said that no matter who he loved after Mommy that she'd always have a place in her heart."

"It's not the same," he told her quietly, crouching down to her level. "Haley was killed because of me."

The girl blinked, then pursed her lips warily. "Did you kill her?"

"It's my fault she's dead."

"But that's not the same thing," she protested. She shook her head. "You gotta let go of all this guilt, mister. Daddy says it poisons you from the inside out."

Hotch sighed. "Your dad's a smart man."

The girl grinned. "The smartest!"

"Eva! Eva, leave that man alone." It was a woman who came and took the girl's hand, looking up at him apologetically. "I'm so sorry."

Hotch shook his head. "There's nothing to be sorry about. That's a very, very smart girl."

Then he walked away, back down the path with the Christmas lights to the SUV where Emily stood, Jack sleeping curled against her shoulder. She shook her head when he reached for his son.

"He's asleep," she explained. "Let's not jostle him more than we have to."

Neither of them spoke on the way back to Hotch's, Hotch because he was reflecting, Emily because she wasn't sure if Hotch was still mad at her. Hotch immediately put his son to bed when they got home, while Emily took advantage of the solitude to get ready for bed herself. When he came in the room, she was curled under the blanket facing as close to away from the door as she could. She stayed perfectly still as Hotch prepared for bed. It was only once he'd crawled under the covers too that she turned over on her pillow.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For taking me and for letting Jack do it."

He'd long-ago decided to forgive Emily, both because he'd recognized it for what it was and because there was a ten year old girl who had convinced him that maybe, despite Haley, he and Emily could build something. Hadn't she been trying to convince him that Foyet was dead, that he wasn't coming back? "It's a beautiful tradition."

She relaxed slightly. "Thank you. Matthew taught it to me."

"You light one of those candles for him," he said, reaching out to her and tugging on her hand.

She moved closer tentatively. "Yeah. Last year was rough."

They were silent for a few moments as Hotch ran his fingers through the ends of her hair. "You say something, after you light the candle."

"1 Corinthians 13. Or part of it anyway."

"Tell me."

She tilted her head to look up and him and, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, turned back, closing her eyes as she listened to his heartbeat. "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

"It's perfect," he said, his voice choked.

Emily didn't turn her head. They fell asleep that way, each of them thinking of love, of faith, of hope and of a Christmas morning filled with all three.

* * *

_I'M SO MANY FORMS OF SORRY!!_

_I had this uploaded at 8am EST and then promptly got so distracted by rawpotato's post for me that I forgot to post this! Which could mean 1 of 2 things. I either wait to post tomorrow's chapter until about the same time, or I go ahead and post the next one before I do my travel bonanza tomorrow. I'll let you guys decide since tomorrow's is does meant that I probably won't post the 26th on the 26th 'cause that's set to be a crazy day. On the bright side, that should mean 2 posts on the 27th. _

_And for those of you who have been waiting so patiently, I promised you a kiss before the end of this story which means it's up in the next chapter!_

_Let me know how I did on this one._

_And thanks to each and every one of you who has left me a review. I appreciate it more than you could know. _


	25. December 25: Maybe Not So Broken

December 25

"Daddy!"

He felt the air whoosh out of him as his son jumped on the bed. He heard laughter in the background, blearily opening his eyes. He recognized the laughter as Emily's and he tickled his son as he craned his neck to check the time.

"It's about nine," Emily offered, leaning casually against the doorframe. "He's been up for a while, I just tried to keep him occupied as long as I could."

She'd done an excellent job if it was nine. He felt surprisingly carefree, relaxed and almost happy. The knowledge that Haley was gone still lingered, but his little boy was happy, excited about Christmas and Emily was with them, watching with soft eyes. Despite what he had lost, for the first time in a long time, Hotch was focused on what he had gained.

"Daddy! Daddy stop!" Jack squealed. "Em'ly! Save me!"

She waited a few more moments before stepping forward, tickling him herself before lifting him into her arms. "Alright, Jack. Daddy's up. Know what that means?"

"PRESENTS!"

He almost jumped right out of her arms and Emily had to react quickly to put him down before he fell. Then he was off, racing to the tree. She turned her gaze to his and he could see some of the exhaustion in her gaze. It had been a long, late night. With the revelations and emotional upheaval of the previous night, neither of them had slept well and she'd never know how much it meant that she'd let him sleep while getting up with Jack.

"You heard the boy," she said with a smile. "Coffee's up."

He reached out and snagged her hand, his thumb stroking her wrist. She smiled at him, just for him, a smile he couldn't remember seeing any other time and his thoughts over the last couple of days came floating back. He was still grieving, unable to give her more than the shell of a broken man, but, if she was willing to stick it out, he was willing to try and give her so much more.

"Come on," she said quietly.

Hotch allowed her to pull him up out of bed, and they split so he could freshen up for the morning. Eventually, he made it to the living room where Emily was seated on the floor, Jack bouncing beside her, looking for the opportunity to open presents. He was unsurprised to find a cup of coffee already prepared for him, sitting on the coffee table and he smiled his thanks at the dark-haired woman passing his son his first gift.

All throughout the next half hour, as Jack tore through his gifts – and Hotch was only slightly surprised at the lengths to which Emily had gone for his son – he found Christmas cheer inching out the age-old melancholy. Jack was more than happy and Emily seemed to be just as content. He felt a warmth settle in the pit of his stomach he hadn't felt for a long time.

Finally, only two gifts remained. He was glad that while Emily had spoiled his son, she hadn't done the same for him. Jack had rushed off with his new toys, determined to add some of his gifts to his ever-growing collection, but not before extracting a promise for pancakes for breakfast. It left Emily and Hotch alone in the living room.

She was the one who reached for her gift first, a beautifully silver-wrapped package that was large, but thin.

"You know you didn't have to," he told her quietly.

She chuckled. They were keeping their voices down, the moment turning remarkably intimate. "I know. Open it anyway."

Hotch carefully pulled off the paper, then caught his breath as he took in the framed sketch in front of him. "Emily..."

She was chewing her lip as she watched his fingers trace over the drawing. It was a scene she'd long-ago etched in her head, so it hadn't taken her much time to sketch it out on paper. The pencil drawing was of her two boys on Jack's bed, Hotch reading to his son as she'd seen too many nights to count. Jack's eyes were sparkling and Hotch seemed so perfectly content to be simply sitting there with his son.

"I didn't know you could draw like this," he breathed. He'd seen her absent doodles in her files and on spare pieces of paper, but never had he thought that it would come to this.

Emily blushed. "It was my escape as a kid," she revealed. "The one hobby my mother approved of."

He was utterly speechless as he pushed himself up from the couch, pulling her off the floor and into his arms, wrapping her up tight. "Thank you," he said in her ear. He pulled back to look at her. "I can't find words."

"Just tell me you like it," she replied.

"Sweetheart, I love it," he answered.

Emily nodded as he pulled away and watched him pick up another box under the tree. He shifted it in his hands slightly before holding it out to her, knowing the nervousness and anxiousness showed in his eyes and in his movements. Her hands shook as she took the gift, sitting down on the couch. It was a heavy gift and she carefully removed the ribbon, then the paper. The box was non-descript and she caught her breath as she lifted the lid.

"Aaron," she said on a gust of air as her fingers stroked over the cover of the book in the box.

_Little Women_

He'd had a nightmare one night months ago, and in the effort to distract him, Emily had told him about literature, what she liked, what she didn't like... her love of Vonnegut and the sentimental value inside the covers of _Little Women_. She'd gone on to explain that it was a book she'd read cover to cover so many times she'd owned upwards of eight copies. But it was more than that... It was the one book she and her mother had read together when she was a little girl.

"How... You listened. You _remembered_."

"I pay attention, Emily. I've always paid attention to you." He ran a hand over his hair.

"I told you that story _months_ ago."

"But it was important to you," he told her. He looked away, unable to risk seeing pity or apology in her eyes if she really did think he was too broken. "I care about you, Em. A lot. But I'm so broken. You deserve better than me, so I never knew how to act." He stopped there, feeling exposed and vulnerable enough. He didn't get a choice when Emily, who had put aside her gift and stood, rested her fingertips on his cheekbones, tilting his head until he met her eyes.

Then, she was kissing him, her warm lips pressed against his. His hands came up to her back, pulling her closer as he took advantage of the opportunity to kiss her back.

"I don't care how broken you are," she whispered when she eventually pulled back, tears glistening in her eyes. "I don't care, Aaron, because it's not about how broken you are. It's part of what makes you who you are today and I wouldn't be here with you if you were any different. It's about you and that little boy and how much you both mean to me."

"Foyet-"

"Is gone," she interrupted forcefully, one of her hands wrapping around his neck while the other stayed on his cheek. "You're not broken, you're adjusting to the fact that there is no one hunting you, no one torturing you, and no reason to be so vigilant in your protection. And you've shown me that you care."

"That's not enough," he argued.

Emily shook her head. "That's more than enough." She kissed him, and grinned. "Plus, isn't that my decision to make?"

"Em..."

"I'm not asking for a commitment, Aaron," she told him before he could argue with her. "I know you just lost Haley. All I'm hoping is that you'll give me the chance to show you that you can still give and receive love."

He smiled and stroked his thumb over her cheek. "I don't think you need to show me," he said. "I'm pretty sure you already have."

* * *

_This concludes 2009's Christmas fic. I'm pouting and sad in my head, but kind of exciting to take it over the next six days. _

_There is one thing I want to make sure is clear here. Hotch and Emily aren't necessarily starting their relationship so much as saying that there is that possibility when he feels he's ready and done grieving for Haley. They've admitted that there's attraction, and Hotch, as you can see, has eluded to the fact that he knows there's more on her side. They're kind of just tentatively working through some of the kinks. _

_The next story (and I have no idea what I want to call it yet) should be much more fluff, though obviously there will be angsty parts. So for those of you who were unsatisfied by their kiss, there's more where that came from. And I'm thinking we'll see more of the sweeter side of Hotch in the little follow-up to this, so let me know what you think about both of those things and this story as a whole._

_One last thing before I sign off for good. When I started this, I never expected to get the overwhelming response I've gotten. Each and every review has helped make this story what it is, and in many cases, touched my heart. You guys have been fantastic and I'm a little mind-boggled and humbled that there's been such a huge and positive response to this, especially as someone who has never experienced this kind of grief myself. I've been worried through this whole thing that I was portraying it unrealistically, but you guys have been awesome at essentially kicking my rear back into gear to be able write the next chapter. You guys are the driving force behind this._

_I do want to give special thanks to rawpotato, i-luv-to-write-law-and-order, sarramaks, chiroho and SignedSealedWritten, who have been absolutely integral in their own ways to the way this story has turned out. You guys have... I can't even put into words what your correspondence has done to this fic. So, as best as I can say it, thank you to each of you as well as people who reviewed almost every chapter. I cannot name each one of you, just know that I appreciate everything you've said and done. _

_And on that note, I'm off. If you want the sequel, go check out Something More, following Em and Hotch up to New Years._

_Thanks for reading!  
_


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